Slayer Rising
by breebren
Summary: Sequel to Slaying Gotham. More bad guys and not only undead ones. I think this is a better title. At least, for now.
1. Prologue: Faith's Journey, Part Yada

Prologue: Faith's Journey, Part Yada

She had to admit, this was a lot of fun.

The suit, originally designed for Buffy, was nothing short of amazing. It helped her blend into the darkness better and move more quietly than even she had been able to without it. It stayed cool even on the hottest nights, and it fit like a glove.

Of course, Mr. Fox had had to refit it for her considering she was a little taller than Buffy, but it hadn't taken very long.

She had hung around Gotham, helping the Bat clean up the demons, and then stayed around during his absence to handle all the bad guys. Once Bruce and Buffy had returned, bundle in tow, she had waited until after the party on the bitchin yacht, and then hightailed it abroad.

Bruce had been nice enough to let her use his pricey and well stocked jet plane. All she had to find was a pilot to fly her around, one who was stupid or brave enough to put up with her, and who didn't mind vamps and demons crashing their party.

She settled for Xander.

With only one eye or not, the guy was a great pilot and he didn't flinch (much) when the baddies showed up. And he totally dug her suit.

Now she found herself currently in Lisbon, Portugal, looking into some suspicious deaths. And the cause of these suspicious deaths: acute and extreme blood loss. No one could, according to the local papers, figure out why these fourteen healthy people had suddenly died from blood loss. There was no explanation for it what so ever.

Faith totally disagreed. There was a reason for it. She had seen the bodies, thanks to a young man who worked at the morgue late at night and who had thought that if he let her in, he might get some action of some kind. Which he did, but not the kind he wanted. Vampires rose at the strangest of times, even right in the middle of V-sections. The morgue worker had passed out cold. Faith had dusted the vamp. She had then left, leaving the unlucky young man to explain what had happened to the body.

She wondered where the other 13 bodies were and why they hadn't come back and attacked the coroner. She had found out the very next day. Front page of the paper. Apparently, all fourteen bodies had been stolen from the morgue to destroy any evidence by the killer. She couldn't help but laugh at this.

There was a Big Bad in the area; her Slayer senses were going crazy, her body feeling like a metal detector and the closer she got to the metal object – or demon in this case – the higher her head went _beep beep beep._

"What is it?" Xander asked. He was peering over her shoulder, trying to see what she could see even though he knew better. That was the problem with Xander – he refused to stay where it was safe, insisting he could help her more than just jetting her around. While he had proved useful to Buffy on occasion, Faith still had not gotten over her whole Lone Ranger phase. And besides, he was so close to her, all she wanted to do was send her very sharp elbow into his very breakable ribs for crowding her while she was trying to do her job.

"I don't know yet," she hissed back in a whisper. "And you have about 5 seconds to back off or I am going to damage you. _Comprende?_"

In the face of Faith's threat, Xander rolled his eyes, but did as she asked and backed away. Faith peered around the corner, and then shot a look back at her companion. He was standing a good ten feet away, bouncing up and down on his heels, pretending to whistle. He met her gaze and waved, smiling like an idiot, before going back to gaze around the alley as if it were some place somewhere else with interesting stuff in it.

Faith shook her head, visualizing smashing his face into a door or a wall or –

Slayer senses kicking into high gear. The baddie was getting closer. Tired of waiting, Faith did what Faith does: she jumped out from her hiding place. Turning down the alleyway, taking a fighting stance, ready for anything only to find that the alley she was now facing was empty.

"What the – " She said out loud, stance slouching in confusion, fists balling in aggravation.

Then she heard Xander cry out.

_Damn!_

She rushed back to find him dangling a good two feet off of the ground, being held there by the biggest vamp she had ever seen. The undead thug was a good seven feet tall if he was an inch with arms as big around as her waist. And, when she got closer, she could see that his fangs were different. They appeared to be plated in metal. A vamp with metal teeth? This was beyond weird.

"Hey!" She shouted to get his attention. The vamp turned golden eyes on her and snarled. Immediately, he dropped Xander to the ground, and charged.

And charged way too quick for his size, even if he was an undead.

Faith planted her feet and just barely managed to swing her fist, connecting with _something_ before the undead body builder barreled into her, sending her flying. Her back connected painful with a stone wall, momentarily dazing her. Slayer sense kicked into high gear, even if she physically she was idling, and her body moved of its own accord, ducking the blow that was aimed for her face. The vamps fist crashed through the wall and she came to her senses quickly: if she hadn't moved, that would have been her head smashing through the stone. The thought sobered her also.

The vamp tugged. His fist was stuck fast. Faith figured he didn't have the common sense to open his fist before trying to yank it back out. Deciding she was in a helpful mood, she spun on one heel, the opposite foot swinging around and connecting with the side of the vamps face. Its head was thrown harshly to the side, and the rest of his body followed, right into several trash receptacles. At least his fist was free.

When the vamp jumped up, and roared, Faith realized her mistake.

"Should have just staked him!" Xander yelled at her from where he was pressed against the opposite wall of the alley for safety.

"Thanks, Captain Obvious," she spat back.

The vamp turned to her and growled again. Then, he began to laugh. "Foolish Slayer." And then, with all the casualness in the world, walked out of the alley and turned down the street.

"Hell no!" Faith ran after him only to find that when she exited the alley, the vamp was gone.

"What was that all about?" Xander asked, his voice a little croaky.

All Faith could do was shrug.


	2. 1: Home Sweet Home

Chapter One: Home Sweet Home

The darkness that surrounded her was fathomless. Even with her palm touching her nose, she could not see far enough to make out her hand. No matter what direction she turned, there was absolutely _nothing_ to be seen.

But she was not alone. Her senses told her that. There was something else in the darkness with her, circling her, stalking her, watching her every move. Yes, watching her. She wondered how it was that she could not see, her Slayer sight non existence in this place, but whatever was here with her could see, and see very well.

"Who are you?" She asked. She was turning around in a circle, turning faster and faster as she felt more frantic. "WHO ARE YOU?" She screamed.

"They will come, Slayer." The voice was one she knew, but had not heard in a long time. It was the voice of the first Slayer.

"Who will come?" Buffy asked, calming slightly, but not much. She still felt danger here.

"Those who seek your daughter," was the answer. "Her blood is power, more so than even yours or the father's. Blood with this much power is too much for them to resist. They will come for her."

"We can protect her. We _will_ protect her," Buffy exclaimed to the darkness.

"She should never have been born," the first Slayer whispered, farther away than she had been. "Such is the way of things."

"No!" Buffy screamed.

Over her shoulder came the sound of many footfalls, as if an army was marching upon her. And she knew. She knew they were all demons and they were coming. They were coming for her daughter.

"No!" The word escaped her as Buffy sat up straight in bed. For a few moments she was disoriented, unsure where she was. She looked around: there was light here, from outside. The city was alive around her, and she took a calming breath.

She was in the Penthouse. In Gotham. She looked to her left, at the empty space in the bed there, and then she glanced over to the clock: 3:43 A.M. Sighing, she placed a hand over her still racing heart, wanting to remember the dream, but then again, wishing she could just forget it.

The dream! Throwing the covers off, she jumped out of the bed and ran over to the crib where her daughter slept. The baby was asleep, safe and sound. Buffy sighed in relief, but reached out and touched the softer than velvet skin of her daughter's cheek. The baby did not stir at the touch, except to clench her little fist.

"The dream again." Not a question, but a statement. Buffy looked up and nodded. Bruce was fresh from a night of patrolling. Regular, human bad guys were always an issue, but the demony kind had been keeping a low profile so far. To Buffy, it was just the calm before the storm.

"I didn't ask her for her opinion," Buffy stated, speaking of the first slayer. "And I do not appreciate being told that our daughter should not have been born. Like…she is a…mistake, or something."

"Sshhh," Bruce warned her when her voice rose in anger. He pointed to the sleeping bundle, and Buffy clamped a hand over her mouth. He came to stand behind her, putting his arms around her stomach, and kissed her behind her ear. "Marti is not a mistake. Far from it. Remember what Willow said?"

"She said that the first moment she saw her, she could tell that Marti had a destiny greater than yours or mine," Buffy stated, placing her hands over his and leaning her head back on his shoulder. "I just wish I would stop having this dream. Slayer prolific ability number whatever: dreams and visions, no explanation forth coming." She sighed, pulling away from him and going to sit on the bed. "I wish that after a certain amount of time, a Slayer automatically lost her powers and they passed onto another, and that it happened to me. The 'lost powers' part."

Bruce sat down beside her, pulling her into his arms once again. "I know how you feel. It would have been so easy to just let Faith take over all of it. She asked, but…" He trailed off, rubbing Buffy's back with slow circular motions. "Such is the burden we have been given."

Buffy snorted, an amused sound. "Listen to you, getting all wise, and stuff." She pulled back to look him in the eyes. "Did you get hit in the head or something tonight?"

"No, well, not tonight," he answered, earning a poke in the sternum. Not a very hard one, but enough to let him know she meant business. "Listen, the point is that we take what we are given –"

"Though some people give it to themselves," she said singsongy.

"- and we do what we can with it." He brushed her hair out of her face. "And I may believe that I made those decisions all on my own, but according to Willow, it was the fact that I am a Varishi that actually did it. So, one way or another, I would have been Batman. It was preordained, at least according to her and Giles."

"Huh? Go figure," Buffy commented. The innocent look on her face was just that: a look. He knew from vast experience that she was up to something. He found out what when her hands slipped under his shirt, her fingernails tickling his flesh. "So, I guess that we are one of a kind. A pair of kindred spirits destined to fight evil and blah blah blah. You know the rest."

"Mrs. Wayne," he told her in a voice that sounded quite serious. But she knew him as well as he knew her. "I would advise you to restrain yourself. There is a child present in the room."

Buffy glanced over her shoulder. "Oh! You mean Marti." She shook her head, noticing that in spite of what he had said, he did not offer any resistance when she pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it away. "Well, _Mr. Wayne_, she is sound asleep and will be for another hour or so. I should know. I fed her and then went to sleep again, having that stupid-" She huffed. "I don't even want to think about it anymore."

She had to admit that it was strange going from being called 'Miss Summers' to 'Mrs. Wayne'. The newspapers were having a field day with it. They made it a habit almost daily to state that no one had known about the wedding except a select few until several days after it had taken place. Many of the high society people that Bruce knew, that Buffy vaguely remembered having met at some point or another, were subtle in their complaint about Bruce Wayne, Prince of Gotham, not having a ceremony worthy of his name and social status. So far, no one had said anything about him marrying _below_ that social status, at least not where he could hear them.

They had gotten married on the yacht. It had just been him and her, plus Richard, Faith, Willow, Xander, Giles, Alfred, and Lucius. And of course Marti who had been a little over a month old at the time. As soon as Buffy and Bruce had returned to Gotham from Romania, they taken everyone out for the weekend, and had a nice, quiet ceremony. She had gotten to wear white; more like a summer dress really, nothing fancy. The judge who had married them had even come onboard via a speedboat just to perform the wedding. He had been sworn to secrecy and had kept his word.

It was two weeks later that Bruce made the announcement at a party he threw just for the heck of it. All those looks of surprise had been worth it. And then they had brought out little Martha Joyce, and people had really been shocked.

Bruce had made sure that everyone understood that he and Buffy had married because they loved one another: not because she had gotten pregnant. They both knew that there were some who would never believe that, but they really didn't care.

Most were just happy that he had finally settled down. It had been a topic of much speculation and even more uncertainty over the years.

Buffy still had to remember that it was her they were talking to when she went into any store in the city when addressed as "Mrs. Wayne." But she was getting used to it.

"Well, it was a slow night tonight," he told her, his breath on her neck, his hands traveling over her thighs to her hips. "It isn't like I am tired or anything…"

Marti chose at that moment to wake up, her shrill cry filling the penthouse.

"Not again," Buffy mumbled, throwing herself down on the bed and covering her face with her hands. "Why does this always happen? How did I manage to get pregnant in the first place with how much we were interrupted?"

Bruce just laughed, standing up and going to the crib. He reached down and effortlessly, and with much care, picked his daughter up and cradled her to his chest. She stopped crying almost immediately and looked up at him with her big green eyes. _His_ big green eyes. Not her mother's big green eyes. Buffy peered over out through her fingers. It amazed her that a man who fought criminals and demons every night, who was feared throughout Gotham, could be so gentle when handling such a small person with such great care. Not only that, but he had taken to holding her, changing her, bathing her, and giving her a bottle like an old pro. And he was so good with her. He could quiet her down with little effort.

"You do that so easy," Buffy told him, sitting up and folding her legs underneath her. "I'm jealous."

Bruce laughed, returning to his seat on the bed, Marti still tucked against him. The baby decided it would be fun to kick and swing her little arms back and forth. She was stronger than any other baby in the world, but he had been hit harder.

"Pretty soon we are going to have to start training her. She kicks like a mule already."

"Can we at least wait until we are done training Richard?" Buffy asked, leaning over and kissing her baby on the cheek, avoiding the punches and kicks, and then kissing her other baby on the lips, loving the smile that was on them.

"Okay. But the boy is a prodigy. An absolute wonder, really. Soon we are going to run out of things to teach him. He's incredible." Bruce leaned back against the headboard. "It was like he was born to do this. It is rather disconcerting at times."

Buffy nodded. "I know. He has an agility I can't even duplicate. And he's quick. _Very_ quick for a nine year old boy. Maybe we should have Willow look into it. Maybe he is a Varishi also."

"Wouldn't surprise me to learn that he was," Bruce stated, smoothing his hand over Marti's head, and the layer of dark hair there. Again: his, not Buffy's. The baby gurgled happily. "Maybe someday he will take up the mantle."


	3. 2: A Day at the Office

Chapter Two: A Day at the Office

"Is Richard excited about starting school in a few weeks?" Willow asked, folding, or rather refolding, expertly.

"No, not really," Buffy answered with a chuckle. What she was folding was what Willow was redoing. This domestic stuff was hard. "He doesn't want to go. He says he doesn't want to be around other children his own age."

"Private tutor?" Willow said, smiling at her friend and her poor folding skills.

"Bruce has talked about it. I think he doesn't like the thought of the boy going to public school, or any school for that matter. Once everything with Child Services is over and he gets the O.K. so we can official adopt Richard, he thinks that will make Richard too much of a target."

"You mean a target as in 'Bull's Eye' with a big neon flashing sign that says 'I was adopted by the richest man in the city. Kidnap me, please. Ask for a bunch of ransom.' That kinda sign?"

"Yeah. Bruce also talked about private school, but then again he would be forced to hang around with the kids of the people Bruce only pretends to like because he has to, so it is a lose-lose situation, according to both of them. So, tutor it will probably be."

Just then Richard walked into the room, followed closely by Alfred. His hair was brushed back, and he wore a button up shirt with a sweater and khakis.

"Where are you off to?" Buffy asked, giving him a kiss on the cheek, with made him giggle.

"A field trip," Alfred answered, taking what was folded, properly, and going to put it away.

"A field trip? To where?"

"Wayne Enterprises," Bruce stated as he entered. Immaculate, expensive suit of medium gray. White shirt. Burgundy tie. God, Buffy loved this man. "I am taking him with me to work today."

"Why?" Buffy just had to ask. "You sleep through most of it and you own the place. He is nine years old. What is he going to do all day?"

"I wanted to go," Richard piped up.

"And it won't be all day. I doubt we will make it to lunch." Bruce shrugged, and then kissed Buffy good-bye on the cheek. "At least, I know I won't."

Richard hugged Buffy tightly then darted off, actually seeming excited about going. Buffy worried about him sometimes.

"Hey! What about me?" Willow called after him.

"Oh, alright," Bruce said, and kissed her on the cheek, too. Buffy burst out in laughter. Willow slapped him on the arm as he went by. "But let's not make a habit of it."

"Smart ass," Willow mumbled after him, and then joined her friend in laughter.

The meeting had been boring. Bruce had barely managed to stay awake. Richard on the other hand had actually been paying attention, as if he knew everything that was going on.

Once back in his office, Bruce had asked the boy about the meeting, since he himself had zoned most of it out, or so he had given the impression of such. Richard had told him everything in a condensed version. He _had_ been paying attention.

"Don't take this the wrong way," he said, giving the boy a can of Pepsi out of the refrigerator. It was ten o'clock in the morning, but it was either that or a shot of bourbon. Much too early for alcohol. He would have to talk to his secretary about restocking the fridge if he was going to make a habit of bringing Richard with him. "You are a strange boy."

Richard shrugged, his eyes shining. "I have a good teacher." He smiled and took a sip of the cola.

Bruce nodded. "You are right. Your _Ruh Anna_ is a strange one, also."

Richard furrowed his brow. "I was talking about you."

Bruce opened his mouth to comment, but just then there was a knock on the door. When it opened, Lucius Fox walked in with a smile on his face. He carried a file in his hand which he handed to Bruce, patting the boy's shoulder as he did.

"Did you bring him with you today just to bore him with the inner workings of corporate intrigue?" Lucius asked.

"Well, I was hoping to show him your department, Lucius. Might find something useful down there."

Lucius shook his head, the smile still on his face. "Are you planning on taking him base jumping or sky diving?"

"A little bit of both," Bruce answered, putting his hands in his pockets. He glanced at Richard who was showing a great amount of interest in what they were talking about.

"I don't think I have anything in his size," Lucius admitted, turning to study the boy. Richard turned his gaze to him, meeting the older man's gaze with his bright blue one. "But it wouldn't hurt to look around."

Richard was convinced that this was the coolest room he had been in so far. Well, maybe except for the Batcave, but it was close.

He pretty much had the run of the place while Mr. Fox and _Ruh Baba_ talked. He was careful, though, not to touch anything in fear of accidently damaging something, but his young mind absorbed everything and his wide eyes took everything in.

"I think I can come up with something that will offer a considerable amount of protection, but also the freedom of movement he needs," he heard Mr. Fox say. "But whatever I build him now is not going to last long."

"Because he is a growing boy," Bruce stated, watching closely as Richard climbed up and over a shelf, careful not to disturb anything.

"Twelve years of growth, Mr. Wayne. That is going to be awfully expensive."

Bruce shrugged, smiling. "I think I can afford it. Besides, it will be worth it."

"Well, get him down from the ceiling and let me measure him."

Richard did a back flip off of the rack he was standing on, landing perfectly on the floor, before running over to the two men. He smiled up at them.

"Having fun?" Bruce asked, reaching over to ruffle the boy's hair.

"Yes," Richard laughed. "I could do that all day."

Lucius chuckled, taking measure of the boy. It wasn't easy: he couldn't stand still for more than thirty seconds. Finally, Lucius had all the information he needed, thankfully. "He has more energy than a puppy."

"Maybe I should have him micro chipped. You know, just in case he gets lost or something," Bruce stated with such complete seriousness that for a moment Lucius believed him.

"And what you put in as the address?" Lucius asked, seeing how the boy thought it was funny also. "If lost, please just hang from the nearest lamp post and he will be picked up at the earliest convenience."

"Bridge," the boy piped in, nodding sagely. "It should be the nearest bridge. There is a lot less of them."

Bruce started laughing as Lucius just shook his head, taking off his glasses and stuffing them into his pocket. "Are you sure he isn't really yours?" He whispered before turning to the racks, knowing there was something there he could use if he could just remember where it was exactly.

"Might as well be," Richard stated, taking Bruce's hand as they went to the elevator.

Bruce turned off the phone and put it back in his pocket. He had decided that 11:30 was a long enough business day, so he had told his secretary that they were leaving.

"Margaret, we are abandoning this ship," he began, as charming as ever, the boy beaming beside him, "we are also commandeering the last life boat. I am sorry, my dear, but you are just going to have to fend for yourself. And remember to not splash around too much. It gets the attention of the sharks."

Now they were sitting in the Lamborghini in the underground parking garage of Wayne Enterprises, the motor running, but the car not in drive yet. Bruce had just read the text Buffy had left on his phone an hour ago.

"I love how she just assumes I know precisely what she means when she says 'diapers'," He grumbled. "I mean, what size, what brand, what whatever? Do I buy one of each brand, each size, or just make an uneducated guess."

"You have changed Marti's diaper, right?" Richard asked, looking at his _Ruh Baba_ with amusement.

"Of course! But I never took the time to study the box they came in." He sighed. "I should just call her back, right, and ask her?"

"Huggies. Newborn. Up to 11 pounds." Richard stated with a smile. "Get the ones with the Hawaiian flowers on them. Not the pink ones."

Bruce nodded, glad one of them paid attention to such details. He put the car in drive and left the parking garage.

The store was a little disconcerting. Not that he had never been in a store before, of course he had, but never in a 5000 dollar Italian suit, or so blatantly obvious it was him. He sighed, parking the car near the front of the building, ignoring the looks the vehicle was drawing from both in and out of the store.

"She has just been waiting for this moment, I bet," he said, turning off the motor and pulling the keys from the ignition. "She can't ask me to stop and get milk, so diapers are the next best thing."

Richard giggled, opening his door. It took some effort but he got it open and climbed out. "Come on. The quicker you get in there, the quicker it will be over with."

The boy couldn't have been more wrong.

People watched him like he was a celebrity or something. He tried to act casual, but it was difficult. Richard held his hand, undaunted, and drug him through the store to the isle they needed to be on, and Bruce realized that if it hadn't been for the boy, he would have been standing there staring in confusion at the seemingly endless choices for changing a baby.

He got two packages, and then changed his mind, and got another just to make sure. Richard took the initiative and grabbed a box of wipes, and baby powder and then led the way back up to the front of the store.

At the checkout line, Bruce smiled at everyone who looked at him; wanting nothing more than to get out of there are quickly as possible. All this attention and scrutiny made him very uncomfortable. He let out the breath he was holding when he opened his wallet to find two 20s mingled in with the larger bills, handing the money to the girl who ran his purchase up. The girl, who couldn't have been no more than seventeen, and was popping gum like it was going out of style, smiled at them both.

"You are adorable," she told Richard, handing Bruce back his change. Richard told her 'thank you', and dashed down to pick up the bag he could carry. "Thank you, Mr. Wayne. Have a nice day." The girl looked around, shrugging apologetically. "They act like they have never seen you before. Jeez."

Bruce smiled, thanked her in turn, gathered the diapers, and left the store in as much a calm manner as he possibly could. Once at the car, he discovered another problem.

"Great," he mumbled, wanting very much to kick the expensive vehicle. "No trunk."


	4. 3: Things to Do At the Museum When You'r

Chapter Three: Things to do in the Museum When You're Dead.

Giles walked through the halls of the Benjamin Franklin Museum with the ease of a man who had finally come home. In the short time, just a few months, that he had been working here, preparing to take over for his colleague, Dr. Livingstone, he had come to know every display as if it were his own private collection. He was sure that he could walk these halls with his eyes closed and still know exactly where he was and how to get to whichever area he wished without any help at all. It was truly magnificent.

And so much better than that stuffy old library at Sunnydale High.

He understood what Buffy and Willow had been talking about when they had stated that all the places they had been, Sunnydale included, coming to Gotham had been like coming to the place that had been meant to be all along. He understood and he enjoyed it.

He had never thought he would live long enough to see his Slayer reach a stage that no other had ever reached before. He never believed she would live long enough to add new things to the Watcher's Diaries, things no other slayer had done before. Oh sure, she had defeated Glorificus and the Master and closed not one, but two hell mouths in her time. All of these things were certainly above and beyond any Slayer before her.

But, no, what he thought of was the personal, not the Slayer things she had accomplished. She was a mother now. The only Slayer before her who had had a child had had that child before being Chosen. Buffy had conceived and delivered her daughter while a Slayer. And not just any child. No. This child's father was a Varishi, a rare genetic offspring of a long line of Potentials, the power that they had possessed and had never been called to use, flowing down their bloodline to pool in the blood of a male child. And a male child that he himself had helped protect in a way, though Alfred had been the one who had spared the child's life. It was truly nothing short of a miracle.

And now with the boy, Richard, who was not only descendant of the very Gypsy clan who had cursed Angelus with a soul, but had a bit of magic in him that could only be attributed to the Varishi as well.

Though so much was unknown, such as which powers her daughter would inherit, if any, Buffy was content with her life. (Semi) Retired, she reveled in motherhood, doted on her daughter, and had the fortune of finally finding the one man in this world who not only understood what she was and what she had gone through as a Slayer, but loved her no matter what.

With the pride of a father, Giles was more than happy for her. She deserved nothing less.

Giles stopped dead in his tracks and turned his head slowly to the left. Something was wrong.

In the alcove was a display dedicated to the Templar Knights. They had received a donation, albeit a strange one, from a private collector overseas. Apparently this collector's family had had the skeletal remains of six Templar's on display for several generations, in glass coffins. They were in excellent condition: bones white and unblemished, tunics in one piece and, yes, white, weapons and armor repaired and gleaming. After so long, they had suddenly decided to donate the remains, but instead of at one of the many European Museums, they had decided on Gotham.

This was strange enough. But not as strange as what Giles had just noticed about the display.

It was empty.

For a moment, Rupert Giles was at a loss. He could not fathom why the display was empty. He had seen to the placing of the skeletons, which were in remarkable condition, their weapons, and their armor himself. Certainly if there had been some more work to do on them, although he could not figure out what that could be, he would have been consulted before removal of the display.

That was when all his years of being a Watcher, living over a hell mouth, and his knowledge of all things evil gave him another, more feasible explanation.

"Oh, bloody hell!" He cursed under his breath, backing up from where he had been standing in the center of the hallway until his back met the wall opposite of the display alcove. Trying to remain calm, he reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He hated the bloody thing. Most of what it was capable of he couldn't figure out how to get to work, even if he wanted to. Whatever happened to the good ol' days when phones were attached to long cords that ran to tall polls and had rotary faces?

He searched and searched, but to no avail. The cell phone was nowhere on his person. That meant he had left it in his office. Brilliant! Just brilliant!

He had to make his way to his office and get that blasted phone.

Although, he could still be jumping the gun, so-to-speak. He had not seen any sign that there was something evil at work here. There could be a logical explanation. Not one he could think of at the moment, but there could be one.

That last shred of hope was proved futile just a moment later when those six skeletons, fully armed and armored, came around the corner, marching in formation, skulls grinning and the empty sockets where their eyes had once been glowing with a fiendish red light.

"Bloody hell!" He cursed again, and began running for his office.

Buffy didn't even bother looking at who was calling her when her phone began to ring. She just figured it was her husband (still took some getting used to) calling to thank her for sending him to the store for diapers. She had to giggle as she walked across the floor of the penthouse to where her phone sat on the kitchen counter top.

"Hey! Richard should know what to get and you should get used to it-" She began, sure he was going to give her an earful.

Instead the voice on the other end was panicked, a little higher in note than normal, and totally belonging to her former Watcher.

"Buffy," he whispered on the other end, "I need you to come to the museum at once. Please! They are after me. You have to –" The connection was lost.

Buffy took a second to look at her phone in confusion, and then stuffed it into her back pocket. Slayer mode initiated, she made her way to the elevator, and only stopping when the _ding_ sounded telling her the elevator had arrived.

"I can't just leave," she said to herself, turning and heading upstairs where Marti was sound asleep in her crib. She peered over at the sleeping baby, her mind going over what Giles had just said to her. He had said someone was after him. Scratch that: _they_ were after him, meaning more than one. It was daylight outside, and would be for many more hours, so it was not vampires, and she doubted demons would take a field trip this early in the day also. So what was it?

There was only one way to find out. Taking her phone out again, she speed dialed the number she wanted.

"Willow, I need a favor."

Alfred had gone that morning after Bruce and Richard had left to check on the progress of the rebuilding of the mansion first hand, leaving Buffy alone with her daughter. She knew that Bruce wouldn't stay at Wayne Enterprises a full day, so she had texted him about picking up the diapers, which she really did need, and had decided to have lunch ready when he and Richard got home. She wasn't a domestic goddess in any sense of the word, but she wanted to try. She had made Thanksgiving dinner once and it had turned out pretty good, minus the Indian spirits who had wanted to kill everybody and had given Xander leprosy, but in spite of all that, it had taught her that she had it in her.

Willow had agreed to watch Marti while Buffy went to the museum to find out what was wrong with Giles. She wasn't expecting much of anything, really, and she had to be home in an hour or so, because that would be the time that Marti would wake up for her lunch time feeding. It was different, that was for sure, being the source of nourishment for another person that didn't involve blood, skin, or entrails.

Or bone. She always forgot bone.

There were several cars for her to choose from in the parking garage of the penthouse. She made the quick decision and got into the Alfa Romero. As she started the engine, she decided she was going to ask Bruce for something not so…flamboyant. Maybe a nice, American made Chevrolet.

Once at the museum, her thoughts of this being some kind of mistake or nothing too serious vanished completely.

The patrons of the museum were filing out in droves, nothing short of being in panic mode. She could hear sirens in the distance, so she parked the car around the corner, and went in the other way, through the back. It was nice to find out that the code had not been changed.

The inside of the museum was quiet, especially compared to the noise outside. She knew this museum, so finding Giles' office would not take too long. Or it shouldn't have, if it hadn't been for the six skeletons that were making their way down the hallway, coming from where Giles' office was.

"Skeletons? Really? And what is with the get-ups?"

Each were dressed in silvery chainmail, a long tunic of white worn over the armor, a red cross emblazoned on the front. The templar knights that had been donated a month ago? Each carried a shield with the same emblem painted on the front, with very sharp looking swords held in bony hands, and helmets on their bony heads.

Slayer mode, level two. Buffy wasted no time in chasing them down, and putting the hurt on them. Or as much hurt as one could inflict on a skeleton.

That didn't amount to much.

She pounded and she kicked. They were just reanimated bones. The shields and swords clattered to the floor along with the limbs that were holding them. Skulls rolled onto the floor with the helmets that were supposed to protect them from harm. The bodies fell apart to piles on the floor. Easy as pie.

Until the bones began to glow, a very evil looking reddish glow, and then they shot up off of the floor and began to swirl around in a whirlwind. Buffy shielded her eyes as the red glow grew brighter and brighter, the wind whipping her hair and clothes around. Slowly, the light began to fade and the winds die down. When Buffy could look again, she put her hands on her hips, and sighed in aggravation.

The skeletons had reformed, complete with weapons.

"You guys seriously don't know when to give up, do you?" She stated, glancing at her watch. Thirty-five minutes. "I was hoping this would be over quickly. I have a baby to feed, you know. Kind of my responsibility. No one else can do it. Well, that isn't entirely true." The skeletons were not caught off guard this time. This time they intended to use their swords. "I mean, there is milk in the fridge. Only, it isn't cow's milk, if you catch my drift."

They didn't. The first undead knight, who must have been the leader or something because his helmet was more elaborate and made of gold, swung his sword at her neck, obviously looking to decapitate her. She may have been shirking on her Slayer duties for very nearly a year now, but that didn't mean she had forgotten everything she had learned or slowed down at all.

She ducked the sword swing and charged forward, driving her shoulder into the Templar's ribcage, pushing him several feet down the hall before he fell onto his back. The other five knights charged forward, moving much more agile than she thought skeletons should be able to. She dove forward, coming up in a roll several feet from the five skeletons but in range of the other one's sword. She barely dodged his swing at her, the tip of the blade slicing into her hip. It stung viciously as she pulled up to her feet.

Buffy spun around, setting her feet, preparing to defend herself, but there was nothing there to defend herself against. The skeletons had disappeared.


	5. 4: Knights Like These

Chapter Four: Knights Like These

Buffy could just see the headlines tomorrow. _Skeletons attack patrons at Museum_. She had to laugh. There was no way they were going to print that as a headline or anything like it. They might mention it in the article, as sort of a joke, but that would not be the explanation they used. She couldn't wait to see what they came up with.

She found Giles in his office, hidden under the desk. She had coaxed him out while telling him what had happened.

"It is some form of dark magic," Giles stated, cleaning his glasses with a handkerchief. He was a little shaken up. "Very powerful dark magic."

"I'll get Willow on it and warn Bruce," she said while picking up the pieces of his shattered coffee mug up off of the floor. "Did they get in here?" She looked around, seeing no damage to the door or any more to the office itself.

"No. No," Giles mumbled. He was rather embarrassed. "I did that, um, when I ran in here. It must have tipped over when I got under…under the desk."

"Oh!" Buffy nodded. She forced the smile to remain off of her face, saving him from any more discomfort. "Do you need a ride home or…"

"No, I believe I will stay here for a little longer. I am going to go talk to Dr. Livingstone now that the police are out of the way." He sighed, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache. "I know some spells that might help counter whatever it is that caused the skeletons to walk around. I need to get those in place. If Willow comes up with anything, have her call me."

She didn't like leaving him, considering that the skeletons could come back, but Giles assured her everything was fine and that she should go home to her daughter.

The drive back was slower than she had wished given that there were cop cars, ambulances, and news vans all over the area surrounding the museum. It took her 20 minutes to get onto a street where the traffic was thin and she could make her way around back to the penthouse.

By the time she got home, her husband had relieved Willow of her babysitting duties. Richard was sitting at the counter in the kitchen eating a bowl of what looked like ice cream. That was the thing about Alfred being gone and not there to look after them: he never would have let Bruce give the boy ice cream for lunch. Shrugging, it being fine with her, she went to find Bruce to tell him what had happened at the museum.

"Skeletons?" He asked, handing Marti over to her. Buffy often wondered how hard it was to get baby spit-up out of an expensive suit. "I'll keep an eye out tonight."

"I need to have Willow look into it, magically look into it." She sat down on the couch, the one the most far away from where Richard sat, and began to feed her baby. "I have fought a lot of things in my time, but never just skeletons. And Templar ones to boot."

"Templar?" Bruce echoed, shaking his head. "I thought things were strange when it was guys like the Scarecrow and the Joker running around."

"You know, there has been something I have been wondering about." She began, staring at the fireplace in the center of the room as if it were going to start talking to her. "That night that the Riddler barged into my hotel room and sent that thing Mort after me, it never showed up again. Something as big and determined as that thing was, and it just gave up and disappeared."

"Faith and I found no trace of it in the city either." Bruce shrugged. "Quite frankly, I had forgotten all about it."

"I wonder what kind of demon it was." Buffy mused aloud, her eyes still fixed on the fireplace.

"It wasn't a demon," Richard called from the kitchen, having been able to hear every word his parents had said. "It was a plant."

Bruce met Buffy's eyes and they both looked bewildered at each other. Bruce then turned and went to where the boy was sitting, still eating his ice cream. "A plant? As in…"

"A _plant_," Richard finished. "Well, it was _made_ of plant matter." He looked up at Bruce. "The reason why you did not see it again is because it returned to the earth that grew it."

Bruce turned back to Buffy, and the silent question there was how the boy had known about a monster that had attacked Buffy before he had even known them? They had never told him about Mort, had they?

Bruce turned to the boy, about to ask him that very question, when Richard cut him off before he could.

"Gypsy magic," the boy stated with a shrug. He jumped off his chair, reached up on his tip toes to get the empty bowl and then took it over to the dishwasher. "You should not question it," he said, putting the bowl inside. "You should just go with it." With a smile over his shoulder, he went over and sat down, and turned on the TV. He never missed the Penguins of Madagascar.  
Bruce returned to where Buffy was with their daughter and sat down next to her. His eyes, as were hers, were focused on the boy.

"I get the feeling that he is smarter than the both of us," he stated, his features thoughtful.

"He is way too wise to be so young," Buffy said and not without a measure of sadness. "Much too young to have had seen what he has seen."

Bruce nodded. He had seen the same horror, and it had not made him wise when he was a child. He wasn't even as wise as Richard was now and he was 33 years old to the boy's 9 and a half.

"Willow told me when I returned home today that she could teach him. He doesn't want to go to school, but he was excited about Willow teaching him."

"That is good!" Buffy exclaimed as she placed Marti over her shoulder and began patting her back gently. "Then we won't have to worry about him being kidnapped for ransom."

"She said all she has to do is get certified and she can do that no problem," Bruce went on, his eyes fixed once again on the boy. "Of course, all of this might be in vain."

"You are worried about the hearing, right?" Buffy asked realizing she had forgotten the towel she placed on her shoulder, under the baby. These were not slaying clothes anymore. She had to take care of them.

"Yeah. Very much." He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "They are most certainly going to go over my past with a fine toothed comb. Quitting Princeton, witnessing the man who had killed my parents getting shot, disappearing for seven years, and then how I acted when I returned."

"Well, we are married now, so they have to look into my past also," Buffy stated, grimacing at that. Marti gurgled. "I and my cult of followers who liked to pretend they were vampires burned down my high school gym in L.A. I was put on probation at the ripe old age of 16. And we are not even going to get into the some of the stuff that happened in Sunnydale."

"And even if they let us keep him, okay us to adopt him, they are going to be on us constantly," Bruce sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "They are going to be able to show up at anytime and ask questions and look around."

"At least they won't show up at night," Buffy mused. She tapped him with her elbow, and Bruce turned to her. "Take your daughter back." She handed Marti over. The baby yawned and fisted her tiny hand around the silk tie Bruce wore before closing her eyes. "They won't, will they?"

Bruce shook his head, smiling. "I am pretty sure they don't. Good thing, too. I would hate for you to have to come up with excuses why I am gone all night long."

"I should be good at making up excuses. I hid the fact that I was a Slayer from my mom for years. I am an old pro at hiding things."

The elevator dinged and Willow emerged from the open doors. She dashed over to kiss Richard on the head and then came over to where Buffy and Bruce sat.

"I looked into the skeleton thing," she announced in a whisper. "The people that had the skeletons are a strange bunch. And going by the other stuff that they own or have owned over the years, they have to know about the supernatural and the forces there of. Every single item is linked somehow, someway to the occult." She sat down next to Buffy, leaning forward to look at them both. "There was an article from forty years ago that I found talking about skeletons of six Templar Knights. The man who owned them was last named Cobblepot. He was known to be an eccentric and a dabbler into the dark arts, and he made no secret of it. He said that the skeletons were still connected to the spirits of the dead knights, and he was trying to find a way to revive them to be his body guards. He was put into a mental institution not too long after that and his son took over the estate, but he was just as crazy too."

"Cobblepot?" Bruce mused aloud while cradling Marti. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"The grandson of the one in the article, Oswald, moved to Gotham shortly after donating the skeletons to the museum. He lives in a high rise and throws a lot of parties. Big spender."

"Oh, yeah," Bruce said, standing up from the couch. He snorted. "I have heard about him. He is throwing a party later this week. We got an invitation."

"I think it might be a good idea we attend that party, darling," Buffy said, trailing after him as he made his way upstairs to put the baby in her crib. "Just to get a good look around. See if he is up to something."

"That would be a good idea," Willow agreed. "Although it is really none of my business."

"Willow," Buffy began in a scolding manner, turning to face her friend in mid-stride. "I respect your opinion. I always have. Since we have known each other."

"The same goes for me." Bruce emerged from the bedroom, empty handed, except for an envelope. He handed it to Buffy. "He says 'and family'."

Buffy read the invitation and then handed it to Willow. "You are family, Will."

Willow appeared to blush while handing the paper pack. "Thanks, but I think I would rather keep a low profile."

"Don't show all your strength," Buffy said, nodding.

"And Willow showing up with us will raise questions," Bruce mused earning a nod from the witch.

"Then who is supposed to sniff out the things we don't?" Buffy asked. Slayer senses and a bat's deduction only went so far.

"You have the perfect sniffer right down stairs," Willow said, nodding her head downstairs toward the sounds of the TV. "The boy is better at it than I am. Take Richard."

"Sounds good," Buffy said. "That means you need to take him to get a suit," She told Bruce. "He's outgrown the one he has."

"I'll get in touch will Giles. Maybe he has found something out." Willow was still smiling when she left.

Richard passed her on the stairwell. When he came to the landing, he paused, looking at Bruce and then Buffy. "A suit? Do I have to?"

"Yes," they both answered at once. "But," Bruce added, "we can forget the tie this time."

That seemed to make the boy happy. He nodded and then went back down the stairs. "Oh," he called up, but not loud enough to disturb Marti. "Dress warm. His kinda likes the cold."


	6. 5: Night at the Museum

_**Note: I went back and updated the first three chapters and fixed my mistakes. I kinda jumped the gun and didn't let my editor (Thanks Mom!) get done editing before I put them up. Sorry. Hope you enjoy.**_

_**Still own nothing. No money exchanged. **_

Chapter Five: Night at the Museum

"Can I go with you?"

Bruce almost jumped, but managed to keep himself from it. He had the Bat suit on, except for the cowl. He turned to the owner of the voice.

"Richard, that isn't a good idea," he told the boy, making sure that everything that was supposed to be was attached to his utility belt. "It's dangerous."

"I'll stay in the Tumbler," Richard argued, folding his arms over his chest. "I promise. I won't get out of it."

Bruce sighed, taking the cowl and pulling it over his head. It was against his better judgment, but then again…

"All right. But," he began before the boy could run off or jump up and down or something. "You stay in the Tumbler. If you leave the Tumbler, I will not take you with me again."

Richard nodded enthusiastically, a huge smile on his face. He followed the Batman to the secret elevator that would take them to the bi-level where the Tumbler was. As the doors closed, he reached up and gripped three of the Bat's glove covered fingers with his hand. To Bruce, this was a touching gesture, one he returned with gladness. To the Bat, it was strange and foreign, but he did not pull away.

Once inside the Tumbler and out into Gotham's streets, Batman could have easily forgotten that the boy was even there. Richard remained quiet, and the only time he moved was to sit on his knees in the seat so he could see out the window at the passing city better. When he was not looking out, he was studying the controls, screens, and buttons inside the vehicle.

So, the Bat told him what each button did, and showed him what the screens were for and walked him through the voice commands and settings of the Tumbler. Richard listened intently, absorbing it all in. By the time they pulled into the alley across from the museum, Batman was sure the boy knew everything about the Tumbler.

"I'll be right back," the Bat told the boy. Richard nodded and watched Bruce as he exited the car and disappeared. The Tumbler closed up tightly, leaving the boy safe and secure. Lights flickered and the screen flashed. Richard knew that he could get away with almost anything if he chose to, as far as Bruce was concerned, but he did not doubt or question the Batman. He knew that they were one in the same, but the persona of the Bat was so far from that of Richard's _Ruh Baba _that if he didn't know any better, he would swear they were actually two people. Even the voice was so very different. Bruce's voice put him at ease and had emotion and made the nightmares go away. The Bat's voice was cold and distant, and left no room for anything, but Richard still felt comforted by it, if not a little fearful. Fearful of disappointment, that he would disappoint the Batman, thus disappointing Bruce. In some ways, it was confusing.

"Giles."

Rupert jumped nearly out of his skin, and it took great effort not to throw the papers in his hands straight up in the air and make a mad dash out of the room. He placed a hand over his frantically beating heart, taking deep breaths to calm himself before turning toward the window.

"Was that really bloody necessary?" He snapped, tossing the papers down on the desk, followed shortly by his glasses.

"Sorry," Batman stated, coming farther into the room, farther into the light given off by the Ex-Watcher's desk lamp. "Found out anything?"

"Besides the fact that I have a strong heart?" Giles sat down at his desk, picking up his glasses again. "No. Nothing."

"Have you talked to Willow?"

"Yes. She told me what she had learned, but all the records the Museum have on this Oswald Copperpot is the papers from the donation and shipping. Nothing else. I will just have to keep an eye out and hope those things do not return."

Richard glanced up quickly, practically standing up in the seat to look down the alley behind the Tumbler. Something was not right. The hair on the back of his neck was standing up and he could feel a malevolence that made his stomach turn.

And then he saw it. Or them.

There were six skeletons dressed in armor and tunics, swords and shields in their bony hands. Ahead of them, like she was one of those baton wielding cheerleaders in a parade was a woman dressed in white and black stripped leggings, a short ruffled skirt, red top, and platform boots that were bright red. Her hair was bleached nearly white and worn in pigtails high on the sides of her head. She wore way too much makeup, almost like a clown's.

Richard knew who she was, even though the change in her physical appearance was extreme to say the least.

It was Kennedy, the Potential.

Richard ducked back down into the seat, even though he knew she could not see him. He pushed the button on the console, bringing up the screen options for the Tumbler. Pressing the right button, he waited on a few seconds before leaning down and whispering: "Bruce. Kennedy is here. And she has company."

Batman heard the boy's voice in his ear, and went to the window to look out. There on the street were the Templar Knight's skeletons, with a very crazily moving and dressed Kennedy in the lead. In her hand she held what looked like a scepter and it was glowing with a sickly green color.

"Bloody hell!" Giles cursed beside him, peering down at the spectacle. The undead warriors followed Kennedy as she turned toward the front entrance of the Museum. She pointed toward the door and waved the scepter. "They are going to break in!"

"Stay here!" The Bat ordered and jumped from the window, landing on the street below. Kennedy whirled on him, and the skeletons stopped their advancement. "Kennedy. Stop this."

"Ha! My name is not Kennedy anymore. It is Harlequin, but you can call me Harley, Bruce," she stated, curtsying. "And I will not stop. _He_ told me to do something and I am going to do it!"

"Let me guess," he said instead, "the Joker."

She nodded, smiling like an idiot. "Yep. That would be him. He didn't say what I should do if you showed up, but I am sure he would not be disappointed if our friends here cut you into pieces." She waved the scepter, and the skeletons turned toward Batman in unison, swords raised. "Attack, boneheads!"

The skeletons attacked in formation, the one who was the leader breaking away from the others and coming from the side. Batman dodged them easily, putting some distance between himself and them. Buffy had told him how they had reformed themselves after she had busted them up. He had to come up with another plan and quickly.

He was so busy with them, that he stopped paying attention to Kennedy.

She was dancing in the street, waving the scepter around. So engrossed was she, that she did not notice the shadow that snuck up on her, not even when it raised the two and half foot piece of two by four he had found in the alleyway, and smacked her in the back of the head with it.

It was a solid blow and Kennedy screamed as she fell forward, her face coming in contact with the street painfully. She felt blood pouring out of her nose and the back of her head hurt. She lay there, stunned, unable to move. And then she remembered the scepter: it had flown from her hand as she fell.

The second it did leave her hand, the skeletons stopped mid step, swords raised in various degrees of attack. Batman kept an eye on them as he skirted around them and went toward Kennedy. Standing behind her, two by four held up and ready was Richard, tucked into the waistband of his jeans was the scepter.

"I know," he said, meeting Batman's eyes, "I promised to stay in the car. I'm sorry."

"Hey! You should be apologizing to me, you little brat!" Kennedy spat, getting to her feet. Blood was running down her chin from her nose. "I am the one bleeding!"

With Potential Slayer speed, she lunged at the boy. He swung the two by four again, this time connecting with her ribs, knocking the air out of her lungs and sending her to her knees. She was up again, grabbing for him, but he cart welded out of her reach, and made a mad dash down the alley. He flew on top of the Tumbler and used it to aid him in reaching the fire escape ladder three feet over the car. He climbed it expertly and was up three floors by the time Batman had Kennedy pinned to the ground. Potential or not, her strength was even with his, and with a little struggle he subdued her, tying her hands behind her back with steel and magic enforced cuffs.

She screamed, loud and shrill, when she realized she could not break them. Kicking her feet like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum, she kept screaming at the top of her lungs. Batman tore a piece of the ruffle of her skirt off and stuffed it in her mouth to shut her up. The look she gave him was pure hatred. She tried to maneuver around and kick him, but he dodged out of the way, and then came around her other side, flipping her over on her stomach, and then placing a foot on the small of her back to keep her still. She was still trying to scream through the gag, and kick, but to no avail.

Giles came out of the museum then, his eyes fixed on the skeletons. They were still not moving, seeming frozen in place. "My word," he whispered. He walked around them, studying them. "Incredible."

"She was controlling them with a scepter," Batman told him.

"Where is it?" Giles asked.

"Richard has it." Batman looked up the fire escape. The boy was four floors up. Batman waved him down. As expertly as he had climbed up, the boy climbed back down, landing lightly on the Tumbler and then the ground. He pulled the scepter free and took it over to Giles.

"My word!" He exclaimed again, studying the artifact in his hand. "This is the Scepter or Ky'ru'gyun. How did they find this? _Where_ did they find this?"

"It smells of evil," Richard said, backing away. He wiped his hands on his jeans as if they were stained or dirty. He looked up at the Batman. "I am sorry I left the Tumbler."

Batman, in spite of himself, smiled, and reached out a gloved hand to tussle the boy's hair. "You did good."

Richard beamed, and then went to stand at the Bat's side, the opposite where Kennedy was being pinned to the ground, still trying to flail about.

"I will have to search my books for the information, but this scepter disappeared nearly a thousand years ago. It was believed destroyed." He turned it over in his hands and then raised it up in the air. The skeletons snapped to attention bringing their swords down to their sides. "I believe I will march them back to their display. Once that is done, you can take the scepter to Willow. She will be able to mask its power and hide it from those seeking it."

As Giles did this, Batman called Commissioner Gordon. He told him about Kennedy and that she had tried to break into the museum, but did not mention the skeletons. He also told the policeman to keep the cuffs that were on her on her. "Trust me, Jim," he said through the communicator in the Tumbler, "any others she will just be able to get out of."

The Commissioner promised he would send someone to pick her up.

Giles returned with the scepter, handing it over to Batman. "That is done. Now all I need is to come up with a viable excuse as to how they showed up again." He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. Sirens could be heard coming closer. "I'll keep an eye on her until they arrive. You had best get going."

Back out on the streets of Gotham, all Batman wanted to do was get the scepter to Willow so she could work her magic on it – literally. The closer he was to it, the longer he was closer to it, and a strange feeling of dread kept getting stronger.

"It is cursed," Richard offered. After Giles had handed it over to him, Batman had tossed it in the floorboard. Richard had his feet up in the seat to avoid touching it. "A great amount of evil has been placed on it with a curse that is familiar to me."

"Familiar? How?" Bruce asked. Bruce. Not Batman.

Richard sighed. "It is gypsy magic."

_**Ending Note: I base the fic on the Nolanverse movies and I throw a little bit of everything in after that. The outfits the bad guys wear are based on the video game, Arkham Asylum. Also, the map I am using is based on Nolan's rendition and the one from Batman: The Animated Series. I have kind of combined them since Nolan's didn't say where the museum was. **_


	7. 6: Enter the Iceman

_**Notes: Sorry about the wait. **_

Chapter Six: Enter the Iceman

The Tumbler turned onto the bridge heading back toward the penthouse, located not too far from Wayne Tower. Back to the underground hideaway of Batman until the mansion was rebuilt and the Batcave accessible.

The tires lost purchase suddenly, sending the vehicle spinning toward the side of the bridge. Batman steered, hitting the brakes, but it was as if the Tumbler had hit a patch of ice. Richard held onto the doorframe, closing his eyes and praying in Romani.

Batman managed to get the vehicle stopped just as the rear right side panel bumped into the barrier dividing the roadway from the Finger River below. The vehicle, for the most part, was still facing the direction that they had been headed. Richard eased back down into the seat, looking over at Batman who just shook his head, unsure of what had just happened.

"Stay inside. I am going to take a look." The top of the car opened, and the seat rose. Batman jumped out, and immediately wished he hadn't.

The entire bridge was covered with a thin sheet of ice. Batman found his balance quickly, holding onto the side of the Tumbler to keep himself steady.

"What could have caused this?" He asked as he studied the black ice beneath his feet. While not exactly winter time in Gotham, it was certainly warm enough that ice would melt at a rapid rate, but this was not showing any signs of melting at all. It was as solid as a frozen lake.

"It's not natural," Richard stated, climbing over into the driver's seat to look down at the ground.

"Dark magic of some sort?"

Richard shook his head. "No. There is nothing magical about this. I don't know what it is, but it isn't magic."

"We need to get off this bridge," Batman stated, motioning the boy back to his own seat. "We are sitting ducks here."

"How right you are, Batman." The voice was deep, but sounded strange, as if coming from inside a box.

The man who stood behind them about fifty feet looked as if he were more machine than man. He wore heavy metal armor of a dark blue color that covered everything but his head. Over his head he wore glass that covered his entire head and melted into the armor. His skin was deathly pale, and he wore goggles over his eyes. There was an apparatus attached to his back with tubes that ran into the armor and he carried a gun like weapon that flared out at the end.

"Who are you?" Batman asked, pivoting around to face this new advisory.

"They call me Mr. Freeze and the Joker sent me to put you on ice." With that he raised the weapon and aimed it at Batman. "I feel that I must tell you this is nothing personal. It is just what I must do."

Batman had just a few seconds. He hit the panel on the Tumbler door, sealing the top closed, protecting the boy from attack and threw himself away from the vehicle, coming up in a roll on the far side of the bridge. His footing was questionable at best, and he slid around, surprised he was able to find his footing at all.

The blast from Mr. Freeze's weapon coated the left side of the Tumbler where Batman had just been standing. The ray followed him across the bridge. Batman, knowing he could not run, did the next best thing. He used the grappling gun, firing it up, and when it latched onto the suspension cable high above, he propelled up and out of the way of the freeze ray.

"Clever, Batman. Very clever," Mr. Freeze commented while approaching the Tumbler. He stopped just behind the Tumbler, his eyes on the Batman above. He had no trouble traversing the ice at all. "But that won't save you." He pointed the freeze ray again, but he never had a chance to use it.

Because right at the moment when he began to pull the trigger, the afterburner of the Tumbler flared out, the fire blast hitting Mr. Freeze solidly.

He screamed in panic and threw himself backward. The freeze ray fell from his hand and skittered across the bridge, finally tumbling into the river below. The Tumbler, the left half of it covered in ice, could only spin the tires, but the ice was beginning to crack under the power of the engine. Mr. Freeze got to his feet, his eyes glowing red.

"I will find you again, Batman, and the next time I do it will not end well for you." With that, he proceeded to the railing on the bridge, and without looking back, jumped over and off of the bridge into the river below.

The Tumbler's tires screeched to a halt and the afterburner died down. Batman landed back on the bridge, and sure that Mr. Freeze would not be coming back soon, slid across the ice to the vehicle.

"Richard! Are you alright?" He yelled, using the metal barbs on his gloves to chip away at the ice.

"Yeah," the boy answered, his voice muffled from inside the vehicle. "I'm okay."

Once enough ice was chipped off, the top of the Tumbler opened, displacing even more ice. Richard had a scowl on his face as he stood up in the seat. Batman reached inside and called Commissioner Gordon. He explained what had happened and about the condition of the bridge.

"I will send some police to cordon the bridge off until City Maintenance can figure out how to unfreeze it." He sighed. "My boys had trouble getting that girl into a police car and then into a jail. She is a strong one."

"Keep an eye on her. She will try to escape, and I think the Joker might send someone to help her."

"The Joker? Isn't he dead?" Gordon sighed again. "I will take care of it. Thanks, Batman."

"What are we going to do?" Richard asked, still chipping away ice with a batarang.

"Get this scepter to Willow before the Joker sends anyone else after us," Batman answered. It took a few tries, but the Tumbler was finally able to break free and roll steadily on the ice until the end of the bridge without too much trouble. Once they were off the ice, Batman pressed the accelerator and they took off for their destination, hoping they didn't run into anything else on their way.

Jim Gordon hung up the phone, leaned back in his chair, and ran his hands over his face. He didn't know everything that was going on, but he had been a cop long enough to know that some of the things that he was hearing from police and citizens alike were not the norm, even for the criminal aspect of Gotham City. He didn't believe in ghosts or anything like that, but he had to admit that for some things there was only one explanation, no matter how farfetched that explanation may seem.

He wasn't even going to begin to try and figure out how the entire police station had been frozen in time, as the news had stated it, last year. Even with all the evidence pointing to this as truth, he could not wrap his head around it at all.

The Joker being alive was another thing. He had seen the man's body in that warehouse, burned to a crisp, and then slammed up against the wall. The DNA matched from a few years ago when they had had him in custody. He did know how he had been injured in such a way, he hadn't even asked, but he had known for certain that the man was dead.

Then why was he up and walking around, terrorizing the city of Gotham again, and retaking up his quest to destroy the Batman?

He had tried talking to the young woman that his men had brought in, who had tried to break into the museum and had attacked Batman, but she was a nutcase, pure and simple. All she did was smile like a loon, and hum to herself, sometimes breaking out in hysterical fits of laughter. After just five minutes, he had given up, and had her moved to a cell. Once locked up she had begun singing silly songs at the top of her voice and dancing around.

"_Put a smile on the face of Gotham,_

_The Joker will rid you of all your sanity_

_Laughter is the best medicine_

_Won't you come and laugh with me?"_

Gordon was sure the girl was up for a trip to Arkham. She was as insane as the Joker had been, or _was_, but she made even less of a secret of it as he had, or was, or did.

Gordon sighed again, wanting nothing more than to go home, kiss his wife, hug his children, and then go to bed. He had already sent several officers to cordon off the bridge and had awakened the head of City Maintenance up to take care of the ice covered bridge. The morning commute was going to be a hassle. They would have to have cops out there to redirect traffic. He should probably call the TV and radio stations so they could put out an alert for commuters tomorrow about the bridge being shut down. And who knows how long it would take to clean it up and get it ready for traffic again.

Gordon had just picked up the phone again when there was loud explosion from the first floor. It shook the entire building, rattled every window. Gordon could hear glass breaking, and people cursing as they made their way to the site of the explosion. He waited just long enough to make sure the building was not coming down around them.

Dropping the phone, he pulled his gun and ran out of his office. Other officers were already running to the source of the explosion.

"What the hell is happening?" Gordon asked anyone who was near.

"Someone just blew open the front door, literally."

Gordon and the others, weapons drawn and at the ready, made their way down the stairs and into the blasted area. Desks and chairs were blown apart, police officers were lying here and there, and paper was flying everywhere.

"Where are they?"

"I knew he wouldn't leave me here to rot," the young woman commented, standing up from behind an over turned desk. In her hand was a grenade launcher. "I so want to use this, but he has told me not to unless I feel I am threatened, so back off, _piggies_, or I will start blastin' away." She backed out of the hole in the wall where the front door used to be, keeping the grenade launcher fixed on Gordon and his men. Gordon was pleased to see she still wore the cuffs that Batman had put on her. "Ta-ta, boys! Next time won't be so pretty."

She fired the grenade launcher, but at the ceiling, collapsing it to keep them from following her. Cursing, Gordon kicked a chair that was lying near him. He was starting to think about early retirement.

"Can I go back out with you tomorrow night?" Richard asked, climbing from the Tumbler.

"Maybe." Was all the Batman said. He held the scepter in his hand, staring at it in what could only be dubbed as disgust. "We need to get this to Willow."

An alarm from the computer in the room and the Tumbler went off at once. Batman made his way to the computer and the screen opened up on the Gotham City Police Department. The front door area was in shambles.

"The Joker. He got Kennedy out." Batman's voice was cold and hard as steel.

"What are we going to do?"

"_We_ are going to do nothing. You are going to take this to Willow and I am going to go back out and see if I can find Kennedy and the Joker."

"Wait!" Richard cried, holding the scepter that had been put into his hands out at arm's length. "What if you need help? What if…"

"Stay here!" The command was issued with a tone that endured no disobedience. Batman returned to the Tumbler and was soon gone, leaving Richard to stare after him.

He had a bad feeling and not just from the scepter he was holding. Sighing, he went to the elevator and pushed the button for Willow's floor.


	8. 7: Gardening is Hard Work

Chapter Seven: Gardening is Hard Work

Richard entered Willow's floor, still holding the scepter like it was going to bite him. He was a little angry at Bruce for not taking him along, and even more hurt by it. He knew that he should not be, but he was and that was that.

He could not shake the feeling that there was something else amiss, something he needed to warn Batman about, but with the scepter in his hands, he could not concentrate on anything else but that and that made him very uneasy. He dropped it on the couch, and backed away from it. The proximity was still too close for him to escape it. He knew that Willow had to use her magic to conceal the scepter and block the dark power radiating off of it before he would have any hope in pinpointing what his senses were trying to tell him. He had to hurry and find her so she could hurry and take care of the scepter. He may not know exactly what it was, but he knew that Bruce was in danger.

He found her still awake in the kitchen, reading a book at the table, while stirring something that bubbled in a bowl. When she realized he was there, she glanced up smiling.

"Hey, wonder boy," she commented, setting the book aside. "What are you doing up?"

He explained to her that he had gone with Batman, about Kennedy and the Museum, and the scepter, Mr. Freeze, and now Kennedy's obvious jail break.

"Kennedy is a clown?" She laughed, though it was full of bitterness. "She has really gone off the deep end. Couple that with her Potential Slayer powers, and I don't know who is more dangerous: her, the Joker, or this Mr. Freeze." She sighed. "Where is the scepter?"

Richard led her back into the living room where the scepter was laying on the couch. The moment she stepped into the room, she could feel the dark power radiating off of it. "That is some wicked vibes." Leaving it where it lay, she placed her hands over it, but not touching it, and began to chant. She did this for several minutes, and as she did so the power emanating from the scepter began to diminish until it finally lessened to the point of almost vanishing.

When Willow was through, she sat down in a chair and took a deep breath. "That took a lot out of me," she commented.

Richard was not really paying attention. He heard her talking, but his mind was concentrated elsewhere.

He could see it as clear as if he were standing there watching it. He saw Batman entangled in thick, thorny vines being held upside down. The vines were twisting and the thorns were razor sharp, finding the weak spots in the Bat armor and digging their way in. He could hear laughter, a woman's laughter, and he could see the blood running down the black armor as Batman struggled to get lose.

"No!" He screamed. Willow jumped to her feet.

"Richard, what is it?" She asked, kneeling down in the front of the boy and placing her hands on his shoulders.

"Bruce – Batman – he is in trouble. I have to get to him." He broke free from her and ran to the elevator. Willow followed him, but by the time she made it to the elevator, it was already descending back down to the temporary Batcave. Turning, she ran back to the kitchen and to the phone. She needed to call Buffy. She would probably wake up the baby in doing so.

Buffy had just decided to go to bed, having found nothing on TV worth watching. All these channels and not a single thing on worth watching. Go figure.

The phone rang, but before she could answer it, Alfred got it. Not even a minute later, however, he was bringing the phone to her.

"It is Willow," he told her, handing the phone over. "She says it is urgent."

"Thanks, Alfred," she said taking the phone. "Hey, Will!"

Willow dove head first into a short explanation at a breakneck speed of what was going on. Buffy listened, picking up the high points. Batman in trouble. Richard left to find him. Thanking her out of breath friend, she hung up the phone.

"Alfred, I have to go find Bruce. He is in trouble and Richard has gone to find him."

"I will watch over Marti," Alfred stated. Buffy pulled on her shoes and made for the elevator. "Take care, Mistress Wayne. All of you come home safe."

"We will, Alfred," she said smiling at him as the elevator doors closed.

Once at the bi-level, Buffy noticed that not only was the Tumbled gone but so was the motorcycle. She could only wonder at how Richard was riding the thing. He had to be way too short for it, didn't he? Sighing, she went back up a floor to the parking garage. She would have to normal car it, and make sure she kept it out of sight once she made it to wherever it was she had to go.

Driving randomly and aimlessly through the streets of Gotham was not something that Buffy felt she had the time to do. According to what Willow had learned from Richard before he had taken off, Kennedy, who had tried to storm the museum with the skeletal Templers in tow, had been taken there after Richard had beaten her with a two by four. The Joker, or some of his flunkies, had blown up the front entrance to the police station and she had escaped. Batman had gone out to find her and the Joker.

Richard had one advantage over her in this situation: the motorcycle he had taken could track the Tumbler via a homing beacon. Maybe. Just maybe…

"Willow, can you use the computer in the sub-level to track Batman's car?" She asked as she sat a block from the police station. It was chaos all around the place.

"Yes, I should be able to. Give me a few."

Buffy waited patiently, with an impatient tapping of her foot and a nervous gnawing of a fingernail, which was really gross, but she couldn't help it. This was her husband, and though she knew the Batman could take care of himself, that didn't make it any easier, especially if Richard had had a strong enough sense of something being wrong that he had taken a motorcycle too big for him out to find the Bat. She just wished the boy had come and gotten her first before taking off.

Her cell phone rang, and she picked it up without looking at the screen. "Will?"

"It's me," Richard's voice, sounding very small and far away. "_Ruh Anna_, you need to come to the Botanical Gardens. Batman is in trouble."

"Richard, sweetheart, are you alright?" She asked, starting the car and making a u-turn. Yes, it was only a block from the police station, but they were too busy to notice – she hoped.

"I am fine," the boy told her. "I am in the rafters above the gardens. There is some woman here and I think she can control the plants. You have to hurry."

"Okay, sweetie, I am on my way as fast as I can," she told him, dodging cars and racing through yellow lights. She really hoped that all police were too busy with the aftermath of the explosion to be watching for crazed drivers.

"And Kennedy is here also."

Oh yeah. Kennedy was so going to get a beat down when Buffy got there.

Wayne Botanical Gardens was all the way up on the north side of town. With a bridge closed off, Buffy could have ran it and made it faster than she drove. Nearly thirty minutes later, she pulled up outside of the Gardens. Willow had already called and confirmed that the Tumbler and the motorcycle were there.

Getting inside took a little bit of Slayer strength, but Buffy managed. Though she was still a Slayer, her powers had lessened somewhat since being pregnant and giving birth to Marti. Willow and Giles, flying as blind as she was since a Slayer had never gotten pregnant and given birth before, surmised that some of her power had passed onto her daughter in order to protect the child. It made sense, but she hoped it would not hamper her in a fight with Kennedy.

Her Slayer senses were not going haywire, so she knew that there were no demons or vampires here. She would have to be careful, because that meant she was fighting humans, and she could not kill humans. Except for Kennedy. Kennedy was different.

It didn't take her long to find trouble. In fact, trouble found her.

It was a last minute reaction. Buffy ducked just as Kennedy swung at her. She felt the air from the punch, could see the fist fly by her face. Buffy came back up, threw herself into a summersault, putting a good five feet between herself and the Potential. When she got a good look at Kennedy, she could not help but burst out laughing.

"What have you done to yourself?" She managed to ask. She was laughing so hard, there were tears in her eyes. "You look ridiculous!"

Kennedy curled up her fists and stomped her foot. "Stop it! Just stop it! I don't have to take this from you! The Joker says I look pretty and that is all that matters!"

"Well, he is as mad as they come, so you should really _not_ trust his judgment. Seriously, Kennedy, what possessed you to wear those tights with that skirt?"

Kennedy screamed in frustration. "My name is Harlequin. _Har-le-quin_! Not Kennedy. Don't ever call me that again!"

Laughing or not, Buffy dodged the next attack easy. Kennedy, or Harlequin, was throwing punches at her like she was a five year old. She kept her eyes closed and swung away. She had obviously forgotten her Slayer training.

"Listen, _Harley_, just tell me where the Bat is and I'll let you go. You haven't looked in a mirror lately, have you? You need to redo your makeup. It looks like a drunk clown did you over." Buffy was still laughing, dodging the unreasonable punches easily. She ducked around a tree of some kind, and heard the satisfying crunch as Harley hit it full on with her fist. The Potential cursed rather expertly. At least she could do something right.

She was just getting madder and madder with ever sentence Buffy said. "I am not going to tell you where your precious Batman is. You are going to have to fight me and then I still might not tell –"

Buffy clocked her a good one. Harley went down like a limp noodle.

Buffy nudged her with her toe just to make sure. She didn't have anything to tie her up with and doubted she could find anything here strong enough to do so, so she decided to leave her where she was. She was sure she could find her later on if she had to.

Buffy went deeper into the gardens, her Slayer hearing detecting a sound she did not like at all. It was as if something very large was moving around. She thought of Mort and what Richard had said about him coming from the earth. She hoped she did not meet him here.

And then she was looking upon a sight that she could not believe. In the center of the gardens, the plants had grown huge. Not just huge, but literally monstrous. It was as if they were alive. Well, she knew plants were alive, but these were like moving and doing stuff that normal plants should not be doing. Case in point: a cluster of vines, a few nearly four inches thick, with huge thorns on them, were currently curling and twisting their way around her husband as if to crush him.

And standing off to the side, laughing like a madwoman, was a chick she had never seen before. She had bright red hair, and she looked like she was wearing leaves and flowers, the foliage covering every part of her body.

"Hey!" Buffy yelled, stepping out into the area. "Stop that! Right now!"

The woman turned to her and smiled wickedly. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the Queen of the Slayers, also known as Mrs. Bruce Wayne. He's a little busy playing in my garden at the moment."

Buffy saw movement. Actually, she saw several movements. There were vines slowly making their way toward her that she had to keep an eye on. Evidently this woman, whoever she was, was controlling them somehow. The second movement was coming from above. Richard had taken one of Batman's grappling guns and was slowly propelling down toward the woman who had no idea that he was there.

The vines around the Batman tightened; Buffy could hear the armor he wore creaking in protest. She could also hear him straining to breath. She had to do something and fast, and not get herself caught in the process. She had to keep the woman's attention fixed on her.

"Listen, whoever you are, you are making a big mistake here. You know that I am a Slayer, so you should know what I am capable of. I am going to snap all your little vines in half and then I am going to find the biggest one and beat you with it." The vines were getting closer. One shot up at her and she ducked to the side, grabbing it as it went past, and yanked with all her might. It tore free from the others and she tossed to the ground behind her. It writhed a little bit, as if in agony, and then went still.

"No!" The woman cried, her face distorting in anger. "How dare you! How dare you destroy my babies?"

Buffy could hear the vines getting tighter around Batman. It was a pure struggle for him to breath now. His face was red and his eyes were rolling back into his head. She risked a glance at the boy and then made a mad dash toward Batman. The vines snapped at her, some hitting her with enough force to bruise, a few even tripping her, but she batted them away, tore them apart when she had to, but she kept going.

The woman was screaming, her arms thrown wide, throwing all she had at the Slayer. Then she froze, and turned around and looked up.

Just in time to get both of Richard's feet square in her chest. She fell down and when she did the vines stopped throwing themselves at Buffy and loosened their hold on the Batman.

Buffy reached him. She grabbed what she could jump up and reach, which was the cape and yanked as hard as she could. The vines gave a little, dropping him down at least two feet, allowing her to reach the vines wrapped around his chest. Frantically, she ripped them to pieces, tearing him free. Across from her to her right, Richard did an amazing roundhouse kick, catching the woman in the face, and sending her spinning back to the ground. At that moment, the vines went limp, and Buffy managed to catch Batman before he fell to the ground head first. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, dove to the side, and rolled him onto the ground onto his back. Richard kicked the woman again, and this time she lay still.

"Bruce! Baby!" She sat up next to him, and pulled the cowl off of his head. His color was returning to normal and he was sucking in deep breaths, coughing, and clutching at his ribs. "Are you hurt?"

Richard knelt down on his other side, opposite Buffy, his eyes wide with concern. "_Ruh Baba?"_

Bruce managed to sit up, nodding that he was all right, still unable to speak. He drew in a deep breath and winced.

"First ice. Now plants." He managed to croak out a few minutes later, glancing over at the strange woman who was still unconscious. "Is it something in the water? What is going on?"

Buffy just hugged him and then helped him to his feet. "I don't know, but whatever it is, we need to put a stop to it. This is carbon dated ubersuckage."

Bruce wasn't sure he knew what that meant, but he had to agree with it. Richard thought it was funny. "How did you get here anyway?" He asked the boy. Richard was carrying his cowl and didn't seem to mind Bruce putting his hand on top of his head to help him keep his balance. Buffy put her arms around her husband to help him walk.

"The motorcycle." The boy answered with a shrug and a nice amount of reluctance.

"That's it," Bruce stated, his voice getting stronger. He made it sound as if Richard was going to get so grounded, at least that is what Buffy thought. "I am going to tell Lucius to put a rush job on his latest invention. You, my boy, are getting a suit and a mask, and I don't want to hear another word about it."


	9. 8: We Need A Bigger Nut House

Note: Sorry it took me so long to update. I had five days to do the final edit on my best friend's book before it went to the publisher. And now her book is #1 on Amazon's zombie book list for Halloween. YAY!

Chapter Eight: We Need a Bigger Nut House

Buffy took the car and Richard followed her home on the motorcycle. She kept glancing up at him in the rearview mirror. For an 8 year old kid, he managed the machine well. They took side roads and avoided all traffic until they got to the Penthouse. Buffy went to the parking garage as the boy took the secret entrance to the sub-level.

Batman had stayed behind to wait for the police to come and get the plant lady. Buffy only left after he had swore that he was all right. She knew there was a chance he had a few cracked ribs, but they couldn't just leave the woman here to regain consciousness and disappear. He would stay and make sure she did not get away before the cops arrived and then he would be home.

Kennedy – _Harley_, had been gone when Buffy had gone back to find her.

When the elevator stopped, Richard was in it, and he and Buffy rode up to the Penthouse together.

"You did really good tonight," she told him, bending down the short distance to kiss the top of his head. "Very good. I'm proud of you. I wish you didn't have to worry about stuff like this, but I am glad you can take care of yourself since you do."

Richard was silent for a few moments. "I have been giving it some thought. You know, on the ride back here."

"Thought to what?"

"About my name. I need a really cool name." He smiled up at her. "And I have found one."

"Oh, you have, have you?" Buffy asked, curious. "And what cool name have you come up with?"

"Nightwing."

Bruce returned home nearly an hour later. With the explosion at the police station, their response time had been slow. Most of the jail was still functional so they had had a place for the woman.

He took off the armor, slowly. His ribs were definitely busted. He was bruised severally on both sides and it hurt to breathe. Even once he was out of the armor, he had to take it slowly to the elevator. The pain was so intense; he thought he would pass out.

When he arrived at the top floor, Buffy, Richard, and Alfred were waiting for him. He had barely been able to get a pair of jeans on. Trying to put on a shirt had been too much trouble and would have caused him too much pain, so the ugly red and purple bruises were visible for all to see.

"Richard, go get the ointment out of the bathroom. The one your Aunt Willow made." Buffy rushed over and helped him sit down on the couch as Richard rushed upstairs and Alfred to the kitchen.

"Plants did this?" Alfred asked. He had a glass of water in his hand which he helped Bruce drink. Richard ran halfway down the stairs and then jumped over the side, landing perfectly. He handed the bottle of thick orange liquid to Buffy.

"Yeah. Some crazy woman who could control them." She opened the jar. Its scent kinda reminded her of menthol and gummy bears, which was not a very good combination. But it worked and that was all that mattered.

Buffy began messaging the ointment into his ribs. It began to work almost instantly. The bruises began to fade and as the ointment absorbed into his skin, reaching the damaged ribs, Bruce began to breathe a little better and easier.

"Remind me to give Willow a raise," Bruce commented, taking a deep breath and smiling because there was very little pain when he did so.

"You don't pay her," Buffy said with a laugh.

"Then she is now on the payroll." He echoed her laugh, amazed at the quickness and effectiveness of the remedy.

"We should rest while we can," Richard said with an air of gloom that made Buffy shiver. "Things are only going to get worse from here on out." He hugged everyone good night and then went to his room.

"I love that boy," Alfred began. "But sometimes he bloody scares me."

Buffy and Bruce shared his sentiment. Sometimes.

The next morning, rather early considering the night he had had, Bruce took Richard with him to Wayne Enterprises once again. This time, however, they bypassed Bruce's luxury office and went straight to Lucius.

"Stage one," Lucius announced motioning to a table, "since I will have to make a new one after every growth spurt."

Richard followed Bruce to the table and even standing on tiptoe, he could not see over it well enough. Richard was a little smaller than most boys his age. Giles had stated that it might have been because of malnourishment sometime in his earlier life. Though the circus was a well known one, times had been rough for them at one time or another. Gypsies did not like to except help from those outside of the clan unless it was in dire emergency. If they hit a rough patch, they would suffer through it on their own by any means necessary. Bruce picked the boy up and sat him on the table.

"How do you like it?" He asked the boy. Lucius stood back, proud of his handy work.

"I like it," Richard answered with a great amount of enthusiasm. The smile on his face should have split his head in half. "It's perfect."

"I know this is none of my business," Willow stated as she watched Buffy change Marti's diaper. The baby had a strange way of looking around as if she knew exactly what was going on and what was being said. "But, isn't Richard a little too young to be crime slash demon fighting? He isn't even nine years old yet."

"He wants to help," Buffy said, proud of herself. She was really getting a hang of this mothering thing. "The only way we are going to keep him from it is if we hog tie him every night, and there is no guarantee there. He can get out of every single knot Bruce and I can tie in a matter of seconds. _Seconds_. Not minutes. At least this way, Bruce will know where he is and he is protected by a lot more than a t-shirt. He will have armor of his own."

Willow nodded. She would place magical protection on the boy's armor, just like she did Bruce's. After last night, she needed to find a spell of protection against crushing apparently. She was sure there was one, but she had never used it before.

"Okay. When they get everything situated down in the sub-level, I will go down there and do my magic thing," Willow said.

There it was again! For the past two days, Willow had been having these strange flashes on the edge of her vision. She could not understand what it was or why it was happening, but it was happening. It felt as if someone was trying to contact her…

"That's good." Buffy placed Marti in the crib, and then sighed, turning toward her friend. "Listen, I know it is not the ideal situation. You are right: Richard is just a child, but I can't be out there with Bruce all the time. And child or not, Richard is the only backup he has now. With everything going crazier like it is, I feel better that he is not alone out there. Richard may be young, but he has a power to him. You know this as well as I do. Now I will worry about them both, but at least I will know they are together."

"I understand," Willow stated, hugging her friend. "Besides, you are the Slayer and I am part of your Scooby Gang. When has life ever been 'normal' for us?"

"Ain't that the truth," Buffy commented, and she and Willow laughed at her choice of words.

Harlequin skipped merrily down the service tunnel that led to the secret lair of the Joker and his new found pals. Her jaw was a little sore, and she hated being knocked out, but it was all for a good cause. Or a bad one, considering what side you were on. All in all, everything had worked out as planned.

Truth be told, she enjoyed her new life. So much freedom. And not having to worry about that pesky Slayer code, or whatever it was. She could fight and kill who she wanted to. He didn't care what she did, just as long as she did her job. It was a wondrous feeling, being so free.

She skipped down the corridor, humming to herself, her smile ridiculously wide.

The smile faded, her humming ceased, and she stopped as if frozen in place.

The inner sanctum was in shambles.

All of her the Joker's minions, the Clown Capers, were lying on the floor amongst the rubble, twisted and bent at such odd angles. Electricity crackled from broken machinery, glass crunched underneath her feet, blood was everywhere.

The Joker was nowhere to be found.

"Joker!" She called, stepping over bodies, ignoring the destruction. "Where are you?"

She felt the hand on her shoulder, and she began to turn, but the hand shot around her, the arm pressing against her throat, snapping her head back, and cutting off her air supply. The Joker was rough sometimes, but never like this. This was not him!

"Sorry, my dear," the strange though menacing voice whispered in her ear. She could not see it as her head was being forced up and back, but she felt the blade pierce her back and slide through her spine and out her front. She couldn't breathe enough to even whimper in her death throws. "From now on, this little club is under new management." Kennedy began to kick in panic, but the man held her tightly, almost comfortingly.

The blade was yanked free and Harlequin/Kennedy's body fell lifeless to the floor. The man reached into his coat pocket and produced a clean white handkerchief which he used to clean the blood off the blade.

"It is a shame you Slayers die so easily," he spoke to the still body, a grim half smile on his face. "You, my dear, are number seventeen." He tossed the blood soaked fabric down. It landed on the back of Kennedy's head. "I hate uneven numbers."

On the far side of Gotham, the spell holding the Riddler released him suddenly. He fell flat on the floor, landing on his back with a loud groan. All around him, hanging from the ceiling, were slabs of meat.

"They- I can't believe this! They put me in a bloody freezer. Oh, the nerve of some people!" He got his feet, and dusted off his jacket as best he could. "Well, I will show them. Mark my words; they will regret treating me, The Riddler, this way."

He found his cane and his hat nearby. He placed the hat on his head and twirled his cane around. He walked through the hanging slabs of meat, avoiding touching any of it as much as possible. When he came to the door, he smiled and breathed a sigh of relief.

The smile vanished when he realized that the door only opened from the outside.

Willow had just finished the final spell on Richard's armor, when the lights returned, only this time they were not in her peripheral vision and were kind of insistent on blinding her. She sat down, hoping that the spell would pass.

It did, but then something else happened she had not been expecting.

"So sorry, love," the voice said in her head. "I apologize for having to do this to you, but this is the only spell I know and you are the most powerful person, who doesn't want to kill me – I hope – that I could contact."

"Who are you?" Willow asked also in her head. She knew the voice. She just couldn't place it.

"It's me, dear," the voice stated, a little perturbed. "The Riddler."


	10. 9: The Voices in My Head

Chapter Nine: The Voices in My Head

"Why isn't the Riddler in Arkham, like he is supposed to be?" Buffy asked right before she spooned milk drenched raisins and bran into her mouth. "And why haven't we heard about him being loose before now?"

Bruce hid a smile as milk dribbled down his wife's chin, which she wiped away quickly. "Maybe because the cops don't know he's escaped Arkham yet."

"How can they not know? I mean, how do the people running Arkham not know a prisoner is not in his cell?" Buffy picked up her bowl and drank the last of the milk.

"They could be under some kind of spell," Willow offered, sipping her coffee thoughtfully.

"I guess we need to go there and find out," Buffy stated, leaning back in her chair.

Alfred came over and picked up the dirty dishes. Richard jumped up to help him.

"_We_ as in Richard and I," Bruce said. He met her angry glare and shook his head. "I am serious. We can handle this."

"You are going to take an 8 year old boy into an insane asylum?" Buffy asked, folding her arms over her chest. Willow knew the action meant trouble. She knew that Bruce was aware of this fact also. She also knew that he didn't seem to care.

"No. I am not an idiot. He will stay in the Tumbler while I go and have a quick look around. I am not going to go in unless I have to." He pushed his coffee cup away from him. "I will only go in if I have to."

"Why can't I go?" Buffy asked. Pouty face. Worked every time. Usually.

"You are retired, remember?" Bruce met Buffy's eyes intently, and something passed between them. Willow had a feeling there was more being said then was actually being said.

"I wasn't retired the other night when I saved you from that plant chick," Buffy whined – actually _whined_ – and more pouty face. She was really pouring it on thick.

"And I thank you for that," Bruce stated, leaning forward, taking one of her hands in his across from the table. "But I really think it is a good idea if you not go looking for trouble, especially now." His smile was sincere, but it was saying something that Willow could not understand.

They were defiantly keeping a secret.

Buffy was silent for a few moments, contemplating, and then she abruptly turned to Willow. "So, how was the Riddler able to communicate with you?"

Willow was so shocked by the sudden change in the conversation that she nearly choked on her coffee. Not only that, but she could not believe that Buffy had relented so easily. Her usual next step after 'pouty face' was a little bit of angry arguing, followed by more angry arguing, with some sarcasm thrown in for good measure.

"Um." That was all the witch was able to formulate for a moment. She cleared her throat and sat down her cup. Bruce and Buffy were still holding hands across the table, and both were looking at her as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. Like secret keeping. "Mind to mind spell. Telepathy. Thought transference."

"Whoa! I have enough voices in my head without a resident bad guy coming to visit." Buffy kind of shuddered.

"Did he say anything useful?" Bruce asked.

"He said that Kennedy, who calls herself Harlequin now, disguised herself as a nurse and drugged him. When he woke up, she and her insane boyfriend were there, prattling on about taking over Gotham. Then the next thing he knew he woke up hanging upside down from a hook in a meat locker. He said there was a spell on him, like a stasis spell, but he was released from it."

"Wait a minute," Buffy began. "I don't know as much about magic as you do, but I do know that there are only three ways to be released from a spell: the caster ends it willingly, it has a certain duration and it has reached it, or the caster is incapacitated in some major way and can't retain the magic. Right?"

Willow nodded. "Yes, right, but I can't see the Joker releasing him willingly and stasis spells do not have durations. They keep going and going and going until someone breaks the spell. It is possible that someone did that, but it isn't easy especially if the caster is up and running."

"So, you think the Joker is debilitated in some way," Bruce mused.

"It's possible."

"So, how did Riddles get out of the meat locker?" Buffy. Fidgeting now.

"I might have done a locating spell and then opened the door for him," Willow admitted sheepishly. She waited for the scolding but it never came. She looked between the two of them that were sharing the table with her, but both seemed to be elsewhere, as in mentally.

"Well, that is nice," Buffy said, standing from her seat. "I am going to go check on the baby. Honey, you should come with me. To check on the baby. Before you have to leave. For your meeting."

"Right. Good idea." Bruce joined her and together they walked out of the kitchen, leaving Willow alone to stare after them, contemplating their strangeness.

Richard came back in, and picked up the coffee cups, saucers, and whatever else needed to be washed.

"Do you know why Buffy and Bruce are acting so weird?" Willow asked him.

She could tell by the look on his face that he did, but instead of telling her, he just shrugged. "They always act weird to me," he said with a smile, and then he left the room, leaving her alone once again.

Sighing, Willow got up and went back down to her floor. She had some work to, but she wondered what was going on with her friends. She figured they would tell her when they were ready to, but that didn't make her any less curious.

That night was the first official night that Richard got to wear his new armor.

It was not the flat black that Bruce wore. Rather it was a very dark green, and while it was made of the same Kevlar weave, it was more flexible so he could move as he was accustomed to. And he did not wear a cowl; just a mask that covered his eyes. But he had all the gadgets that the Batman had, even the gas powered grapple gun, and batarangs. Bruce thought it was funny that he called them this, but it seemed to be sticking.

He found out early on that it was going to take some time to get used to how the cape worked and the flying bit, which was what he was looking forward to the most. Bruce walked him through it after he had taken him flying a few times. Richard had held onto the Bat's armor as they had soared over the city. It was the most incredible thing Richard had ever experienced: being so high, floating amongst the sky scrapers, the wind all around him. He had laughed the entire time, with tears in his eyes from the joy of it.

Then it was his turn to try it on his own, and he hated that he was hesitating. It was not because he was afraid: he certainly wasn't afraid of heights and he wasn't afraid of falling. He knew, without a doubt that if he messed up and fell that Bruce would catch him. The Bat would not let him fall. What he was afraid of was failure, or what that failure could bring was more to the point. He could handle failure on his own, but he could not handle the disappointment it might cause Bruce – the Bat. He wanted to prove himself, he wanted to help. He wanted to protect those he loved, but more importantly he wanted to make his _Ruh Baba _proud of him. That was what he wanted more than anything.

"Is something wrong?" The Bat, directly behind him.

Richard shook his head. He was standing on the wall looking down at the street some forty stories below, but he was completely unfazed by that. "No, I just…"

Batman knew the boy was not afraid, but there was something that was holding him back.

"What is it? You can tell me," he urged gently.

"I don't want to fail you." It was whispered so softly that Bruce barely heard it.

"Failure is not always a bad thing. You learn from it. You try and whether you succeed or fail, you do your best, and that is all I ask."

Richard sniffled, turning so his face could not be seen. "I don't want to disappoint you."

Bruce sat down on the wall next to the boy. "You could never do that," he whispered. "I love you like you are my own flesh and blood." He turned the boy's head to make him look at him. "Do you have any idea what your coming into my life has done for me? You, Buffy, and now Marti? I was trudging through this darkness that was so profound that I thought I would never find my way through it. But now have these three beacons of light to guide me." He smiled at the boy. "You gave me light."

Richard turned and hugged him. "You won't fail us either. I know you fear that more than anything, but you won't." He stood back up, and looked out over the city. "And I know that no matter what happens, you will always be there when we need you." And with that, he jumped.

The first try was more of a plummet, but he caught himself two stories off the ground.

The second try went much, much better. So much so, that the Bat wondered if he would be able to keep up with him. But the sound of the boy's laughter on the wind was the best sound in the world to him, so he kept him in sight, but let him fly free.

When Batman caught up with Richard or Nightwing as he chose to be called, on top of a sixty-two story building, he was alarmed at how pale he was.

"What is it?" He asked, deeply concerned.

"Something bad has happened?" The boy answered, staring off into the distance. "Blood has been spilt not too far from here."

Batman knew to trust the boy's instincts. "Where exactly?"

Nightwing hesitated for just a moment and then pointed down toward the Bowery. "In there. I'll show you."

Once down on the ground, he led Batman to a tunnel. Halfway down the tunnel, the boy stopped and made a sign in the air. The air in there was dank and moldy, but there was also another smell wafting to them from the way they were headed, a smell that was unmistakable.

"Blood," Batman stated. He put his hand on Nightwing's shoulder. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Batman made his way down the tunnel finally coming to the carnage beyond. The bodies had been here for at least a day by his estimate. The entire room looked as if it had been hit by a tornado. He searched, but did not find the Joker. He did find Kennedy, however, lying face down, a wound from a sharp blade in her back.

"Moartea este penitenta, asa ca am fost aratat," the boy said from behind him. He was staring at the body of Kennedy. Batman turned to shield the boy from the sight. Nightwing stepped away from him, defiantly. "I have seen death before. They are empty now." He did keep his eyes on Batman. "I am sure this will not be the last time. You cannot protect me from everything. If you try, I will be of no use to you."

Batman knew this to be true, but that did not mean he had to like it. Every fiber of his being wanted nothing more than to protect Richard from all the dark and evil things in the world. But, he thought, if he was to do that, then why did he have Lucius make the armor for him? Why was he and Buffy training the boy? Why do all of this if he was not going to take up this mantle someday? It was two sides of a coin, a double edged blade. Sighing, the Bat turned back to Kennedy's body where he noticed the handkerchief that was lying on her head. He bent down to retrieve it and when he did, he saw the initials sewn into it.

_R.A.G_.

He stood quickly, and, picking the boy up, flew down the tunnel the way they had came, his cape billowing and snapping behind him. He activated the remote control on the Tumbler, calling the vehicle to their location. Richard knew the Bat had found something important, but he did not ask what that thing was. He could tell _Ruh Baba_ was on edge about it, whatever it was. When the Tumbler arrived, Batman called Commissioner Gordon and told him about the tunnel and what he would find in there. Gordon said he would send some cops and the Coroner right away. Without another word, they climbed into the Tumbler and returned home.

_**Note: Romani - **__**Moartea este penitenta, asa ca am fost aratat**__** - death is your penance. It is Turkish, I believe. A friend of mine looked it up for me. It could be Romanian or Turkish. Not sure which.**_

_**Also, I know this chapter is a little touchy-feely. Sorry, but it is necessary. **_


	11. 10: Things Held Over Ones Head

Chapter Ten: Things Held Over One's Head.

"Kennedy is dead?" Willow asked the question for the seventh time and each time she asked, she sounded more and more dejected that Buffy became more and more miserable over the news – and she had hated Kennedy. Well, not really _hate_, but pissed off at the one time friend. And she had never wanted her dead. In Arkham, in a straightjacket, but not _dead_.

"Yes," Bruce said for the seventh time. Buffy had to hand it to him – he had a lot of patience when he needed to have it.

"Did Richard see?" Willow's head shot up from where she had been staring at her hands which had been wringing together as if beyond her control. Her face was full of worry. Bruce nodded. Willow moaned. "The poor baby." 'Poor baby' being Richard, not Kennedy. Buffy was sure.

"He's seen…" Bruce left the thought hanging in the air. He sat back on the couch. To Buffy he looked not only physically tired, but mentally and spiritually as well. This city was going crazy again, and being the one to try and stop that was taxing at best. She should know: she had died twice keeping Sunnydale from plunging head first into madness for seven years.

"He'll be all right, won't he?" Willow again. She was focusing all of her anguish over Kennedy, a woman she had once loved, onto Richard, a boy she cared about greatly.

"He'll be fine. He's strong." Bruce sighed. "Sometimes I think he is stronger than I am."

Buffy wanted to argue, but she knew he was right. Hell, the boy was stronger than her in some ways.

"She, along with some of the Joker's goons, were murdered by Ra's al Ghul."

"How do you know?" Buffy asked.

"He left this for me to find." He tossed the handkerchief with the _R.a.G. _initials on it onto the table. "He knew I would find it?"

"How did he know for sure that you would be the one to find it? Oh!" Willow began waving her arms around, her hands flying like she had just grabbed something hot. "Do you think you would have found it if it hadn't been for Richard?" Willow questioned, growing paler.

Buffy's eyes widened in alarm. "Do you think he knows about Richard? What he can do? I mean, what he is capable of?"

"That's what scares me," Bruce admitted.

Mr. Freeze stood stoical in the center of the facility, the door in front of him his only focal point. In spite of the fact that it was electronically sealed, and required a code, he knew without a doubt that he could force the door open with the strength allowed to him by the suit that he wore.

Which was exactly what the Joker knew also.

The Joker had made it very clear that if he tried to force open the door, a mechanism inside would be triggered, and destroy the one thing that meant more to him than anything in this world long before he could do anything to stop it.

Sighing, he turned from the door, only to find someone else standing in the doorway, blocking his exit. He had no idea who the man was. He had not seen this individual before. He raised his freeze ray, pointing at the individual, his finger on the verge of squeezing the trigger.

"Doing that would ruin your chance to have what you want most," the man said in a nonchalant way that gave Freeze pause. "I know what the Joker was holding over your head."

Victor Fries was not a stupid man. Not in the slightest. He had heard and understood the '_was'_ in that sentence. The Joker was no more? Could it be possible?

"What do you want from me?" Again: not stupid. He wanted this man to know that.

"I will not only give you what you want, but I will give it to you as it once was. Better even."

Mr. Freeze remained as a statue of ice, but his mind was running like a wave of fire. Was this man telling the truth? Could he really do what he was promising?

"And what would be required of me to accomplish what you claim?" His voice was hollow and cold.

"I just need you to get rid of The Bat," the man said with a shrug.

"Easier said than done," Freeze commented. Finally he felt the need to lower his freeze ray, even though he could have held it pointing at the man all day. He did not need to worry about such things as fatigue anymore. "How do I know your promise is not just an empty boast?"

"Trust me. It is not. I assure you, as a man of honor that I can and _will_ do as I claim." The man stepped out of in front of the door. "All you have to is put the Batman into a frozen grave."

Mr. Freeze took a moment to consider. He had no quarrel with Batman. As he had pointed out several times to the Joker, or had tried to, all he wanted was a place to work. A place to try and find a cure for his dear wife. The accident that had given him a new life was the same accident that had led him on the path he was now: he had cryogenically frozen her body so that he would have time to find a cure for her ailment. The Joker had promised him so much, but yet had delivered nothing. But he had had no choice but to go along with the Joker's mad plan for the insane man had sealed Nora's body away out of his reach.

Now this man stood before him promising so much more. There was no reason to believe this man anymore than he had believed the Joker and he had no desire at all to destroy the Batman. But he had to do what needed to be done to bring his beloved wife back to him. That was all that mattered in his life.

"Very well," he stated. "I will be rid of the Batman. How will you help my wife?"

"Well," the man said. "I will begin by. . . "

"Copperpot's party is tomorrow night," Buffy announced for the fourth time causing Willow to roll her eyes with a grin. "I made sure that Bruce remembered to get Richard a suit, but I forgot to get me something to wear."

She closed the door to the closet a little too harshly and winced, but there was no yelling from downstairs and no crying from the other side of the room so she figured she was all right. Sighing, she threw herself down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

"You still have an entire day. We can go shopping," Willow said with enthusiasm. "But I get the feeling there is something else on your mind."

"What if this Ra's al Ghul character does something, you know, _bad_?" She sat up, folding her arms over her chest. "I mean, I am not exactly sure what is going on inside my head, but I have this strange feeling that Richard is in danger. Should he being going out at night? Would he be safer here with me or out there with The Bat?"

"And just who is this guy anyway?" Willow mused. "I know what Bruce told us about the League of Shadows, and then the thing with the water supply a few years ago, but how did he survive the railway car crashing and blowing up? Who is this guy that he keeps cheating death?" The last word she let trail off, her eyes widening slightly. "Buffy, you don't think – "

"I don't know what I think, but I keep having this feeling that I should know who this guy is. Something is familiar and it is right there – right on the tip of my brain – but it won't come to me. It is like when I try to concentrate on it, and I know it is about to come to me, a fog rolls in and obscures it. Like something is blocking it, to keep me from remembering."

"I have a spell for that," Willow announced. "A simple one. Past Memory Spell. It kinda allows you to go back and relive certain memories."

"We can try that." Buffy nodded. "Can you do it now? You know, before Marti wakes up."

"Yes. It is very simple."

Willow placed a hand on Buffy's forehead and after a few seconds of silence, she began to chant. Buffy closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She wasn't really sure how the spell worked, or how it would navigate the fog to pinpoint the exact memory that was needed, but she had confidence in her friend's ability. She whispered a silent prayer that this would work, and just as the words were whispered, she jerked.

It was like she had just been transported into her own brain. Images and thoughts began whipping past her like she was standing in the middle of a race track and the cars were speeding past her. Some images she could make out, and when she focused on them, they would slow on their way past. Images of Angel, Cordelia, Spike, Dawn, Tara, and her mother. She could see her mother lying on the couch that day she had come home to find her not breathing. She could see herself plunging the sword through Angel's heart. She could see the crater that had once been the town of Sunnydale. She could see the first time she held Marti. All of it was right there, but none of it was what she needed to see.

And then there it was. As clear as day.

Rome. Almost eight years before. She had been there to hunt a man known as the Immortal. No one knew who – or better yet – _what_ he was. Not even the Watcher's diaries had any information about him except that he had been around for nearly six-hundred years. He had been involved in several major disasters over the course of those six centuries, but no one had been able to lay a finger on the man.

Now Buffy was not only seeing the vision, she was in it. As if it was happening right at the moment instead of so many years ago.

_The room was crowded. Music pounding in her head. She ignored it as she pushed her way through the throng of people. Her eyes were fixated on one person, or better yet, the back of his head. She knew it was him. She could feel it in her bones. She had found him. After so long, she was about to do what no other Slayer had done before her. _

_ He was standing alone; drink in hand, so casual. He appeared to blend in and yet at the same time, he didn't. His suit was a dark color and well made, expensive, but he wore it with the air of someone who it mattered little to. _

_The lights were dim in the bar. The music unreasonably loud. People were laughing and alcohol was being consumed as the dance floor was a mass of moving bodies, but none of this mattered. She stopped directly behind him, only a foot or so, and just as she was about to make her move, he turned to face her. . . _

"Do you remember how Bruce described him?" Buffy asked, coming out from under the spell.

Willow nodded. "Yes. He said that he was a tall, middle aged man with brown hair and blue eyes. He carried himself with an air of importance, but was also a little unassuming in a way. Like he was the lackey, not the mastermind."

"I know who he is, Will." Buffy turned to her, gripping her hand in hers. "Ra's al Ghul is the Immortal."

"Well, this certainly answers a great many questions," Giles said over the phone. Buffy and Willow had him on speaker phone. Landlines were still useful. "Ra's al Ghul. The Immortal. It all makes sense."

"What do you mean?" Willow asked.

"Well, he has had his hands in a lot of things over the years. The burning of Atlanta, the Chicago fires, the plague that took over 80,000 lives in Seville, Spain in1649, the small pox epidemic in what was fledgling America from 1775 to 1782, the influenza epidemic in 1918 that lasted a year, and so forth and so on."

"But all of those were natural disasters, weren't they? How could he do that?" Willow wondered aloud, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"And Bruce said that the League of Shadows was into destroying cities that had been a cesspool of sin and corruption. That was why they had come to Gotham." Buffy.

"Yes, but he was not always with the League of Shadows. Or the League of Assassins, as they are also referred as. In fact, before he founded the League, though exactly when is unknown. He is an eco-terrorist now, but before he used a very powerful form of dark magic to bring about the disasters that he caused. He still has use of that power, but prefers the more hands on approach these days, apparently."

"Then _what_ is he?" Buffy knew that he was not a vampire or a demon, but she had sensed something with her Slayer senses that she had never encountered before.

"That I do not know, but whatever he is, he is dangerous. _Very_ dangerous. Maybe even Glorificus dangerous judging by the power he has. I do not think they call him the Immortal just because they can."

"Great," Buffy exclaimed, burying her face in her hands. "Just great!" She shook her head. "Is there any connection to the gypsies, especially Richard's clan?"

There was a pause. "Yes," Giles stated reluctantly. "I am afraid so."


	12. 11: Faith's Journey, Part Yada Yada

Chapter Eleven: Faith's Journey, Part Yada Yada.

In every city she had ever been to, Faith had discovered that there existed a place where demons gathered to drink and socialize – for lack of a better word. In Sunnydale it had been _Willie's_, the proprietor, who had named the bar after himself, had been a slimy little creep who Buffy had gotten some satisfaction from threatening when she needed information on the demon underworld.

Faith could not pronounce the name of this place, as she was not even the slightest bit proficient in Portuguese, but there was no mistaking it was what she was looking for.

The patrons all turned to her when she entered the bar, making damn sure she made a show of it: stomping her boots loudly on the floor, slamming the door, glaring around, cocky smile in place as she observed the looks of fear and hatred, and even a few mixed of both, that turned her way. She hooked her thumbs into the back pockets of her jeans, and walked slowly around the tables, meeting the eyes of whatever demon was stupid enough not to be avoiding her gaze.

"You're not welcome here, Slayer!" The bartender was human, but just barely. Kinda like Willie. The difference was that this human was a good foot taller and about 100 pounds heavier. He had a scar that ran from his hair line all the way to his right ear, his right eye permanently closed.

"Oh yeah!" Fingers still hooked, she kicked out a chair at a table occupied by a couple of loose-skinned demons. That made her think of Clem who had helped out Buffy a time or two in the past. She wondered what had ever happened to him after the evacuation of Sunnydale before it became a smoking crater. Smile still in place, she plopped down in the chair and put her feet up on the table. "I came here for information. Now, I am going to ask a question, and I expect an answer. If I get one, I will leave and nobody gets hurt. If I don't, somebody will get hurt."

"Namely you, you bloody stupid bint!"

Faith cocked an eyebrow. Why did that voice sound so familiar?

"Better listen to the leech, Slayer." Another demon spoke up from somewhere in the back of the bar.

Faith stood up, knocking her chair over. It hit the floor with a loud _bang!_ "Come tell me what to do to my face, if you've got the balls enough to do it."

She felt the movement behind her and ducked just in time as a chair went through the air where her head had been. It might not have knocked her unconscious, but the demon who had tried to hit her better be glad he hadn't. _Forget that_, she thought, _he thought about it so that is enough of a reason for me._

She kicked back, connecting with the knee of her would be assailant. She heard him hiss in pain, and kicked back again, this time connecting with an area somewhere in his upper torso, sending him flying backwards. She had wanted to gloat, turn around, and mock him to his face, but before she could two more demons had jumped up and were charging her. One of them made it to her only to find her fist square in its jaw, while the other one met some resistance on the way.

Familiar resistance.

She should have known.

The fight was an all out brawl, just the kind she liked. A little violence never hurt anyone, except for the ones lying beaten and groaning in pain on the floor. Those it hurt a lot, and maybe sometimes one baddie or another got lucky and delivered a solid blow to her, but all-in-all, it was worth it for the information she obtained. Busted and bloody lips sunk ships or something like that, and were more inclined to tell her what she wanted to know.

When the fight was over, which had not lasted nearly as long as Faith would have liked, but she enjoyed it just the same, the place was in shambles. Tables and chairs were overturned, and broken. There was not a single bottle of alcohol that was not shattered, and their contents, mixing various colors of demon blood, making the floor slippery and shiny. Demons were moaning and groaning in various positions amongst the rubble. There were only two individuals standing in the room. Faith, of course, and a rather pale guy on the far side of the room from her. He had taken out quite a few of the demons, and had a smile on his face.

His vamped out face.

"Slayer," he stated, wiping blood off of his cheek, but it was green so it wasn't his.

"Hey, Spike," Faith stated. "How have ya been?"

"Been here for a few weeks, just taking a look around, and then I heard there was a Slayer here. Had a feeling you would show up at the demon bar eventually. So, I could get my drink on, the no plasma kind, and wait for your pretty face to show up."

Spike walked with her as Faith left the bar and made her way to the car, where Xander waited, a few blocks away. Even though Xander liked to think he was helpful when it came to fighting and such, truth was he was nothing more than in the way, and he had this terrible blindside problem. Not very good when it came to 'keeping an eye out.'

"I thought you were helping Angel?" Faith asked. She had found a shard of wood in her hair from when a demon had smashed a chair over her head. So cliché'.

"Here and there," Spike answered, the cigarette smoke he exhaled hanging thick in the air even after they had walked through it. He passed the cig to Faith, who took it gladly. "But sometimes I get tired of the bloody git, and his nancy hair, and I just have to get away from him. He's holed up in the old country, in bloody Ireland, hunting something native. He'll be fine on his own."

They rounded the corner, and there stood Xander, leaning against the car, another gift from Bruce. The moment he spotted Spike, he threw his arms up in the air and then kicked the tire he was standing nearest to.

"Oh great! What is _he_ doing here?"

"Well, hello to you, too, Captain Harris," Spike replied with a smirk.

"Now, boys," Faith stated before Xander could open his mouth again. "We got a serious problem here, and Spike is going to be very helpful in us taking care of this problem, so try to get along."

"You found out about the silver fanged vamps?" Xander asked, making it a point to ignore that Spike was even standing there. And was it just his imagination, or did Faith just sound a little bit like Buffy?

"Yeah. There is a whole group of them. Why they have the nice shiny teeth, I don't know, but all of them have them, and they have been recruiting. Something to do with some kinda revolution. That was all any of the demons at the bar knew."

"A _vampire revolution_." Spike snorted, shaking his bleached white head. "Sounds bloody ridiculous if you ask me."

"Well, you are a vamp, and they are supposedly recruiting, so why don't you go find out what is going on, you being a vampire and all." Xander snapped, turning his one good eye on Spike.

"Oh, and what are you going to do if I don't? Keelhaul me?"

"Actually," Faith said, coming up to stand between them before it could come to blows. "I think that is a great idea."

"The 'getting in and seeing what the vamps are up to', right? Not the keelhauling bit?" Spike asked, and Xander rolled his eyes. Or eye.


	13. 12: Things Best Left Unknown

Chapter Twelve: Things Best Left Unknown

"Giles says that Ra's al Ghul had a connection with Richard's ancestors in the past," Buffy stated, pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. "He thinks that he might even have been there during the time that they cursed Angelus with a soul. He might even have been the one that gave them the power to do so."

"So he has been keeping track of the clan for all this time," Bruce said, his eyes fixed on the city lights outside of the window. "But why?"

"Giles thinks it was for a sign. A sign that the power would come back around." Buffy sat down on the bed suddenly, running her hands through her hair anxiously.

"And this sign would be…?" Bruce let the question hang in the air, and then answered it himself: "Richard's abilities."

"He can see things. He knows things. Giles said that he is connected," she stated. "Almost like Cordelia was." This last part she said in a whisper.

"Cordelia? You have talked about her before. She worked with Angel."

Buffy was proud of herself for no longer flinching when she heard Angel's name, especially when her husband said it. She also loved the way he said the name, not worried at all about her past with the man…vampire…guy.

"She was his connection to the Powers That Be. She had visions of things, what Angel was supposed to do, or who he was supposed to help. But her visions were not pleasant when she had them. Mind numbing, skull splitting pain." She turned on the bed to find Bruce watching her intently, almost Batman-like. "Willow thinks that Richard is in tune with that conduit, as she called it, but it was not a gift he was given. It was one he was born with."

Bruce sighed, glancing once again out the window. He stood there for a few moments, hands in his pockets, deep in thought, before finally shaking his head and stepping away.

"I will take him with me to Arkham, but he will stay in the Tumbler at all times. Willow and Giles are trying to figure this entire issue out, and you need to be here for Marti, I will look after Richard." As he walked by, he stopped, reaching a hand up to caress her cheek, and then he bent over and kissed her on top of the head. "Everything will be fine."

"What about the party?" Buffy asked, hoping beyond hope that he would tell her that they were going to gracefully get out of having to go. She was certainly not in a partying mood, especially with someone they thought had something to do with a cursed object that controlled Templar skeletons.

"I have to go to Arkham first, and then, if I am not back in time, I will meet you there," He told her, smiling. He knew she didn't want to go, but they had to know what this Cobblepot was up to, and what it had to do with the Joker. Bruce was worried about what he had found in that building. Kennedy's dead body. The Joker was not the sentimental type, but there had seemed to be some kind of deep connection between him and Kennedy. Of course, she had been just as insane as he was so, it could have all been in her head, but it was better to take in all aspects, and deal with them appropriately. The Joker might be seeking revenge on whoever had robbed him of such a loyal follower, if, again, he saw her as something more than just another lackey.

Ra's al Ghul was definitely up to something, but Bruce did not see him and the Joker being buddy-buddy. Sure, both wanted o destroy Gotham, but for different reasons. They could tear this city apart, if it came to that, if it came to all out war between the two of them, and considering that the Joker was no longer completely human, as Willow said, then the battle between him and Ra's al Ghul would be catastrophic.

And in order to stop those two, he was going to need Buffy's help. He was going to need her Slayer strength to keep all that they held dear safe.

"In a week, we will be moving back into the manor. If we must we can lock that place down like a fort."

Buffy shook her head, jumping to her feet. She only stood up to his shoulder. "And that is well and good. I will like being back out there. The seclusion and the upgrade to security will be great, but what are we going to do until then? How can we make the Penthouse safer?"

Bruce took her by the arms, bent down, and kissed her deeply. "We can keep a sword in the elevator," he said, releasing her, and turning to leave the room. "Maybe an axe in the bathroom," he stated over his shoulder.

Buffy _harrumphed_, shaking her head. Then she cocked an eyebrow. Would keeping an axe in the bathroom really be a bad thing?

Bruce took Richard with him to Wayne Enterprises once again, giving Buffy, Willow, Giles, and Alfred a chance to talk things out more. The last thing Buffy wanted was for Richard to hear them talking about him and his connection to Ra's al Ghul. He may know a lot of things, but for some reason, one no one could even begin to fathom, whatever power he was connected to apparently had decided it was not time for him to know that certain fact. At least, at this time.

"I believe it is safe to assume that Ra's al Ghul knows much more than we do on this subject," Giles offered at length. He was holding a cup of hot tea in his hand, the steam rising up in his face. He had yet to take a sip.

"I spoke to Angel," Willow stated. She said his name as if it were something that she wasn't supposed to. As if it were bad to say the name of a man Buffy had once loved in the place she now shared with her husband. Buffy chose to ignore it for the time being. There were much more important things to deal with right now. "He said he would ask around. See what he could find out. He and Spike both know the Immortal, from back when he was all about terrorizing the countryside as Angelus. And I mean 'the whole of Europe' when I say countryside. He said that the Immortal was human, that much was for sure, but he talked about things well before his time, as if he were there. Angelus looked up to the man, in a way."

"Well, that doesn't make me feel any better," Buffy stated. "If Angelus admired someone, it was because they were as bloodthirsty as he was."

"Or more so," Giles pointed out. He finally took a sip of his tea, and then sat the cup down in the saucer. "And 'bloodthirsty' does not necessarily mean cutting the throats of one's victims. Ra's al Ghul is too… _supercilious_ for that. Getting his hands dirty is beneath him. He may lead the way and make certain things possible to get what he wants done, but he has others to do his dirty work for him."

"So, this plant woman and the ice guy: do you think _they_ are working for him or the Joker?" Buffy asked. It was bad enough having one major bad guy in town. But the current rise in the crazies was just ridiculously annoying, and worrisome.

"I am not sure, but I do agree with Bruce on this subject. Ra's al Ghul and the Joker are not going to see eye-to-eye. Yes, both want to destroy the city, but now that there is a Hellmouth to be brought into play, controlling it is something that al Ghul is going to want more than anything, and he is not going to stand for anyone else beating him to the punch, as they say." Giles took another sip of tea, his mouth curving into a smile briefly. It was very good tea.

"But the Joker can't do that, right?" Willow piped up, her hands worrying a once neatly folded napkin. "While I am not sure what exactly he is, or how he came to be what he is, he is still just a vessel of some kind, or at least I think he is. I am not really sure exactly…Oh! I said that already." She leaned back in her chair, napkin still in hand, a look of disappointment on her face. It bothered her that she hadn't been able to learn anything else about the Joker. How he had survived being broken and flambéed was still a mystery she hadn't solved.

Alfred entered then carrying a tray of cookies, scones, and brownies that he sat down on the table. "Way to cover the spread there, Al," Buffy commented with a smile. Alfred did not like to be called 'Al', but she knew she could get away with it once-in-a-while. Besides, without Faith around there was no one to call him 'Al', and Buffy was sure on some level he missed that. Maybe.

"My pleasure, Mistress Wayne," he said, stressing the last part. If she called him 'Al', then he would call her 'Mistress Wayne'.

"Hey, Will," Buffy stated, shaking her friend gently to make sure she had her attention. "You eat." She held up a chocolate chip cookie to her friend. "Willow, meet cookie. Cookie, Willow." The witch took the cookie, smiling slightly, though her eyes were still troubled, and scarped the cookie down in three bites.

"If you would allow me a moment," Alfred began, hovering over them. "This Ra's al Ghul tried to destroy Gotham before. Why did he not try to open the Hellmouth then? Why go to all the trouble he went to with the weaponized hallucinogen if he could have just opened up the Hellmouth and been done with it?"

They all thought on that for a moment.

"There has to be something that we are missing," Giles said. He pulled his glasses from his face and cleaned them on a napkin. "There has to be more going on here than what we know. This man, or whatever he is, is over 600 years old as far as we know. The Watcher diaries say so very little about him, and I have searched through them all very thoroughly, and I can find nothing that tells us what he is or how he has lived so long."

"Could he be human?" Buffy asked, her brow furrowing in thought. "When I came face to face with him in Rome, he didn't tingle my spider sense. I knew who he was, I felt it, that he was the Immortal, but it was not like when I know someone is a demon or a vampire. He gave a totally different vibe than the baddies I usually fight."

"If he is human, than how has he lived so long?" Willow pondered, taking another cookie. It was actually her third. "Has he got some kind of fountain of youth or something?"

Just then Marti began to cry from upstairs. Buffy smiled, stuffing the last of the brownie in her mouth, and stood from the table. "That's my cue. I am so out of this conversation. I was never very good at the 'whys.' All I am good at are the 'huhs' and the 'wha's." She departed up the stairs to attend to her child.

"Well, I am sure whatever it is, we will find out one way or another soon enough," Giles said, signaling that he was done for the night. He thanked Alfred, shaking his hand, and then left for his apartment nearer to the museum.

"I am sure everything will be fine, Miss Willow," Alfred told her, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder, patting it gently. Willow smiled up at him. Alfred was like a kindly grandfather, full of wisdom. At least, that was how she saw him.

"Thanks, Alfred." She stood up, pushed her chair in, and then hugged him. "We will figure this out. I know we will." She said goodnight, going to the elevator. When it arrived, having been down on the bottom floor because of Giles, she stepped in, and waved at Alfred as the doors closed.

Alfred, alone in the kitchen, sighed. He cleared away the table, and put up the leftovers of the sugary treats. He turned off the light, and for a moment, stood in the dark, the only light from the city outside.

"I pray that you are right," he whispered. "With all my might, I do."

_In the dream, he saw a pool. Not an ordinary pool. It was pretty, hypnotizing in a way, and for a moment, he wanted to go to the pool and touch the strange, glowing water._

_ "NO!" A voice shouted, and he turned to find that voice, but there was no one there with him. The voice was familiar to him, one that he had not heard in so long, and he heeded it's warning, suddenly very afraid to go near the bizarre pool._

_ He wanted to get as far away from it as he could, so he ran and he ran and he ran. Down corridors and tunnels. _

_ But no matter which way he ran, the pool was always there, waiting for him._

_ And it was laughing._


	14. 13: It's Your Party

Chapter Thirteen: It's Your Party…

Bruce had promised Buffy that all he and Richard were going to do was check out Arkham Asylum as quickly as possible, and then be back in time for the party.

It was not his fault that plan had gone up in smoke.

Arkham Asylum was in the Narrows, and they had pretty much become the hotspot for criminal activity for the city of Gotham. While the police still managed to keep the asylum under control and use it for housing the more deranged of the criminal element, it was not an easy task to get to and from the asylum for anyone.

Including, Batman, apparently.

And it was obvious that Arkham Asylum was no longer under any kind of control. Because all of the "bad element" were out and about in the Narrows.

The plant woman, whatever she called herself, had been gardening. Buildings were covered with thick foliage dotted with huge red flowers that opened up and spat ten-inch spikes at the Tumbler as they drove by. By the sound they made when they hit the vehicle, they seemed to be made from steel, or something like it. Batman drove through quickly, fearing what the spikes would do if they managed to hit a tire. The tires were hard to puncture – bullets bounced off of them like they did the rest of the vehicle – but he did not want to take the chance of these spikes being more resolute, and getting through the Narrows any other way was not something he would relish doing.

Men were darting in and out of the shadows, keeping an eye on the Batman as he drove to the asylum. Bruce really wished he had sent Richard – _Nightwing_ – on to the party with Buffy, but the boy had been insistent and, truth be told, Bruce didn't mind the company. His norm was to have Richard stay in the Tumbler, for safety, but he wondered now if it was going to be safe enough now.

His only other alternative was to take the boy with him when he went in to investigate the asylum. That didn't sound like a good idea either.

Amazingly, the final stretch of road to Arkham was clear of bombarding plant life, and shadowy figures. Batman slowed the Tumbler down, practically inching up to their destination, the set of his eyes grim inside his cowl.

"Lack of opposition is not a good thing, right?" Richard asked from his seat. He had to curl his legs under him and sit up on his knees to look out the windows.

Batman nodded, bringing the Tumbler to a halt, but making no move to turn off the engine or to get out. He would be exposed once he did exit the vehicle, and, armor or not, he wasn't very keen on his chances of making it inside the asylum.

"I don't think anyone is around," Richard stated, sitting back in his seat. "I think they want us to go in."

"Me," Batman corrected. "They want _me _to go in. You are staying here." His tone brooked no opinion or argument whatsoever on the subject.

Richard sighed, but said nothing.

Batman, leaving the engine running, prepared to get out of the Tumbler. That was when the com rang.

"Darling. Sweetheart. Love of my life. I hate to be a bother," Buffy whispered calmly into her phone. "But _where in the hell are you_?"

"Arkham." The answer simple. The voice…not so much. Buffy knew without a doubt that she was not talking to her husband, _per se_. She was talking to the Bat.

"I know," she said with a sigh, glancing around from the corner she was all but glued into. "But he said that wasn't going to take very long. Just a quick look around, and then you would get yourself here. I don't know any of these people, _honey_." Vampires, demons, an apocalypse here and there, but she was in the company of the elite, the rich and the restless, or something like that, and she could feel the panic coming on. Definitely coming on.

"Change in plans," was all the response she got.

"There you are. All up with the cryptic again." She sighed, also again. "So, what's the dire?"

"Don't know exactly, but I will get back to you."

And just like that, the conversation was over.

Buffy stared at her phone, feeling as if she were either going to pitch it across the room with all her Slayer might, or break down and start crying. Looking up, she could see that people were casting subtle glances her way. They were either wondering what a strange girl was doing standing in the corner, looking like she was about to go mental, or they were wondering what Mrs. Bruce Wayne was doing standing in the corner looking like she was about to go mental, why Mr. Bruce Wayne was not with her.

_Great_, she thought, _now I have to not only mingle, but come up with an excuse as to where my husband is, all the while not looking like I have a day pass, or something_.

Gathering her wits, Buffy stuffed her phone into her small purse, and detached herself from the corner. Planting a smile on her face that she hoped at the very least looked sincere, she stepped out, trying to play her role, the role of the Prince of Gotham's wife, and glided (yes, she _glided_) across the room, snatching a glass of champagne on her way.

Smiles were returned to her. Nods given. So far so good.

Buffy was not sure who exactly to mingle with, and no one – absolutely no one – looked familiar to her in the slightest, even though she knew there had to be a few people here, at least, who Bruce had introduced her to at one time or another. She was about to plunge in head first when she was thwarted just in time.

"Mrs. Wayne."

Buffy turned her head to the sound of the voice and came face to face with a very tall, very old fashioned, top hat. Looking down, she saw that the top hat was on the head of a short, round man with beady little eyes, black hair that curled down past his shoulders, and a nose that was long and curved, more resembling a beak than anything else.

Her first instinct was to say "Yep, that's me," but instead she smiled, and nodded. "Hello. How are you?" She almost sounded robotic. Been there. Done that. Did not want to think about it.

"I am most sound, my dear." The man swept his top hot off of his head, revealing a balding plate there, and dipped into a bow. "I am Oswald Cobblepot, and it is an honor to make your acquaintance."

_How convenient_, Buffy thought, unsure of what she should do in answer to the bow. _The guy we are supposed to keep an eye on comes and introduces himself._ Before she could react, how she was going to react still unclear, Cobblepot took her free hand in his and kissed it, and it took all of Buffy's willpower not to cringe, or scream, or send him flying across the room.

His hands were not _hands_. They were flippers.

Willow had just put Marty to bed and was settling down to read a good book by the fire. Alfred had already retired for the night. He had spent most of the day out at the Manor again, and had returned to say that they should be able to move back in within the week. Just minor touches here and there and all would be ready. The Penthouse was nice, but the Manor was much more secluded, so it would be a welcome change for them all.

She had barely made it through the first paragraph when her phone rang. Setting her book aside, she looked at the number, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Angel?" She said as soon as she hit the button and brought the phone to her ear.

"Where's Buffy?" He sounded tense. And he was kinda being rude.

"Out," she answered. She was not sure how much he knew about the changes in Buffy's life and by the sound of his voice, she didn't think he would give her the time for a rundown. "Is something wrong?"

"Have either of you heard anything about an Insurrection?"

"Yes," Willow said at length. The Insurrection. Right. They had taken care of that already. Hadn't they?

"I just learned from a contact of mine, that the Immortal is spearheading this Insurrection." Angel spoke quickly, but in a tone that meant trouble. _Big_ trouble. "Willow, he is going to raise an army of the undead, and rain hellfire and brimstone, and then open the Hellmouth."

"What Hellmouth?" Willow asked, totally freaked out right now.

"The one that lies dormant under Gotham City."

Cobblepot stood up, releasing Buffy's hand, and with a flourish, placed his top hat back on his head. "My dear, I hope this does not seem rude, for you and I have just met, but there is something that I must attend to with the utmost urgency. My friend here will show you around my lovely home in my absence." He motioned to his left and a thin man, wearing glasses appeared almost out of nowhere. With that, Cobblepot disappeared into the crowd.

"Mrs. Wayne. It is a pleasure to finally meet you." Buffy wasn't sure, but there was something about the man that made her flesh crawl. "Mr. Cobblepot was hoping to show you and your husband his fine collection of weapons and armor." The man made a motion to a set of double doors. Buffy, pretty sure she could take the guy, decided to play along. "Where is Mr. Wayne? I have not seen him yet."

"Late meeting. Last minute kind of thing. But he will be along shortly." Buffy went through the one door out of the two that the man opened up. She didn't even flinch when she heard it shut behind her.

Indeed, Cobblepot had an impressive collection of weaponry. Hundreds of pieces displayed in glass cases and mounted on intricate stands. All were in fine condition, and Buffy had no doubt that many of them were magical, or cursed, or something along those lines.

"I am sorry," she stated. "I did not catch your name."

"I am Dr. Jonathan Crane," he answered. Buffy turned, and found that he was now wearing a mangled burlap sack on his head, complete with eyeholes and a ragged mouth. "But you can just call me The Scarecrow."

And then some kind of strange dust was thrown in her face.

He had met no resistance going up to and entering Arkham.

Every room he searched was empty. The place was abandoned.

Except for one room.

In the center of the room, hanging from a rope fashioned to the ceiling, was the Joker.

A very dead Joker.

He approached the body. He had to make sure this was not some kind of trap of the Joker's.

That was when he heard the mechanical _chitterling_ sound. And what came out of the shadows, training guns on him, was almost too much to believe.

It was a trap alright. But not the Joker's.


	15. 14: Get Ready to Cry

**As Always, I won nothing and no profit for me. And I love reviews! They make me want to write more.**

Chapter Fourteen: …Get Ready To Cry

Bruce had made it very clear that he was not to leave the Tumbler under no circumstances.

But Richard did it anyway.

He did not sense any danger immediately around him, though he knew that it was near and at the ready. He just wanted to have a quick look around. That was all.

The Tumbler, which had seemed to get through the projectile hurtling plants without any damage, was not unscathed after all. There were dents in the metal where the spikes had hit, and scratches also. Seeing this was enough to get Richard back into the Tumbler, the top closing securely over his head before he dared breathe a sigh of relief.

He didn't know why he felt the things that he felt, especially when no one else could. He did not know how he knew the things he knew. He couldn't explain it, even though he had, at times, dwelled on it a lot. There were times when he wished he didn't see or know or feel the things that he did. He wished he was just a normal boy, but normal was not something attainable to him it seemed, so he had to deal with what he had been given, and use it to the best of his abilities.

His grandmother had told him once that the eyes were the windows to the soul and that even when you thought you could see clear through that glass to the person within, to the secrets they were hiding, sometimes it was not so. Sometimes, the glass was foggy or dirty, and things could be hidden very easily when ones' view was obstructed. She had also told him that his eyes were like diamonds and diamonds cut through glass. It hadn't made much sense to him then, but it was starting to the older he got.

He had a feeling there was something inside that building that he needed to see, something that he needed to know existed because it would be crucial that he know it later, but he was not about to walk into that place. That was for sure.

Batman took a moment to take in what exactly it was that he was seeing, because it was rather hard to believe, even for him, who had seen a lot of things thrown at him by the criminal underground that called Gotham home.

There was no doubt about it: they were tiny mechanical penguins, two dozen of them by his estimation, waddling out of the dark corners of the room. They might have been kind of cute if they hadn't each been carrying a very real gun, and they weren't trained on him.

What new villain had thought these things up?

He didn't have much time to ponder, because all at once, the sound of all 24 guns cocking at once resounded throughout the room. He looked to his left, where the Joker, very much dead was swinging back and forth. Batman could tell, with only a cursory examination, that it was not the hanging that had killed him. The hanging was post mortem. Someone had snapped his neck. He thought back to what Willow and Buffy had been talking about: the Joker being possessed or something like that. If that was true, then who – or what – had killed him so efficiently?

He didn't have time to ponder. Bullets began to reverberate all around him, ricocheting off the walls. A few hit the body dangling beside him, but, much to his surprise (and elation) none of them came close to hitting him.

This wasn't much of a trap. In fact, it seemed as if it were only meant to keep him here.

Deciding that since they weren't trying to hit him, he could get out of the room, he dove for the door, and as he suspected, the mechanical penguins adjusted their positions to keep from hitting him. With the sounds of guns still firing behind him, he ran full speed until he was outside. The Tumbler sat before him, and when he got close to it, he saw, much to his relief, that Richard was still inside.

"Has Buffy called?" He asked, getting inside the vehicle.

Richard shook his head, but then his eyes went wide. "She is in danger."

That was not what Bruce wanted to hear.

The dust got into Buffy's nose and mouth, and she coughed as it did so. The stuff was itchy and she could feel it all around her, on her skin, in her hair, and all over her dress.

She waved her hand in front of her face, and then she jerked her head up. The guy, Crane, was watching her closely, waiting for her reaction.

Bruce had told her about this stuff and when this guy, Scarecrow, had sprayed him with it. It was some sort of weaponized hallucinogen.

At that moment, Buffy convulsed – and then she sneezed.

That was obviously not the reaction that the Scarecrow had wanted to see.

"It didn't work?" He asked out loud, his voice sounding incredulous and a fearful.

"If by 'work' you mean piss me off, than, yeah, you succeeded," Buffy snapped, brushing herself off with her free hand. "If you mean 'work' as in sending me into mind numbing fear, then ya failed."

Crane pulled the burlap off of his head, and calmly, though Buffy clearly saw his hand shaking as he did so, brushed his hair back from his face. "Well, well, well. I must admit that I had my hopes that it would work no matter what he said, but I am not too terribly surprised that it did not. You are, after all, a Slayer, but it was worth a shot."

"You bring me into a room full of weapons, all of which I am very good at using, and throw that junk in my face," Buffy stated, shaking her head. "Boy, are you a dumbass."

"Like I said, I am not surprised that you are not affected. So, I have a little insurance policy."

A panel off to Buffy's right slid open, and by the snarls, glowing yellow eyes, and disfigured foreheads, she was pretty sure a fang gang had arrived. Glancing down at herself, Buffy knew she was not dressed break and enterish, but she hadn't foreseen the need to be. At least the dress was not tight fitting from the waist down, giving her some leg room. Wouldn't be very ladylike, but then slaying never was meant to be.

She tossed her champagne glass at Crane's head as he hightailed it out of the room. She missed him, the glass shattering against the door. She heard the lock being thrown. She knew, as well as he did, that she could break that door down, but not with a pack of vamps eager to feed at her back, and into a room filled with Happy Meals on legs. And besides, what would they think of Mrs. Bruce Wayne kicked down a heavy door and yelled at them to run before the vampires made them their early night snack?

Kicking off her heels, she dashed around a few display tables, going straight for a large axe on the far wall. Pulling it down, she hefted it in her hands, getting a feel for it. A little heavy in the axe head, but not too bad. Definitely useable.

"Okay, you bunch of overbites," she said, turning to face the advancing vampires. "Me Slayer. You slayees. Any questions? No? Good."

The first vamp that charged her ended that charge a pile of dust that, if she hadn't closed her eyes, would have blinded her. She spat out dust, ignoring the _eewww_ factor, and prepared for the next attack.

They attacked her two at time this go around. She managed a quick glance, and though they were moving fast and in and out of the deep shadows of the room, she guessed there were about nine more of the creeps beside the two that were almost directly in front of her. Her back was against the wall, and the axe, while not heavy for her, had a long handle, almost as long as she was tall, and it was awkward to wield in such close proximity to the wall and the wall mounted displays around her. She knew she had to get back to the clear area in front of the door, but getting there was not going to be easy.

She swung the axe with all her might, and luckily managed to behead the vampire coming at her from the right, while the handle swung around and knocked the other one off the display table he had been climbing over. Hiking up her dress she made a mad dash across the room, her fist finding another vamp in the face right before another one shoved her, pushing her to exactly where she had wanted to go. She rolled, coming up to her feet, but her dress got tangled, and face planted into the wall hard.

Shaking her head to clear it, she managed to get her to feet once again, only this time a vamp grabbed her by the back of her head and slammed her face into the wall with such force that she saw stars, and felt blood run out of her nose and drip down.

How did one get blood out of velvet?

Using the wall as leverage, she placed both feet on it and shoved backwards. The vampire fell, and she somersaulted over it, landing on her feet, and immediately kicking out at the next vamp in line, shattering his kneecap, and sending him tumbling into another two.

Spinning, she caught another with her left foot. Completing the spin, she came down on said left foot, and swung her right out in another kick, this one round house, and another vamp went flying.

She may not have been properly dressed for slaying, but the dress billowed around her in a neat way as she spun. That was something for it, right?

She reached over and pulled a long pole out of a broken case (why couldn't the people outside hear all the noise that was going on in here?) and broke it in half over her knee before sticking both sharp ends into two different vamps, dusting them. She backed back up toward the door, twirling both ends of the pole in her hands dexterously, taunting the vampires to come on and try it.

"That will do!"

Buffy turned to find Cobblepot entering the room from the same secret panel that the vampires had. The vamps looked around in confusion. As if of one mind, they paused for only a moment before deciding to continue their attack.

"I said that will do!"

Cobblepot reached into his jacket and produced a metal disk about two inches thick. Tucking his cane under his arm, he used both hands to turn the top and bottom of the disk in opposite directions. It began to pulse, and he tossed it farther into the room.

There was a blinding flash, and Buffy shielded her eyes. It only lasted a moment and when it was over, she looked to see that the vamps had all been dusted.

"An ultraviolet bomb, of sorts," Cobblepot stated before she could ask. He waddled farther into the room, surveying the damage that had been done to the room. "My employer wanted to see if your Slayer abilities were still up to par. I believe it is suffice to say that they are. He will be pleased."

"Your employer?" Buffy tossed the broken pole down on the floor and collected her purse where she had lost it on her tumble from one end of the room to the other. Checking to make sure, she was glad to find that her cell phone was not broken. "Let me guess: The Immortal. Or does he prefer to be called Ra's Al Ghul?"

"I do not believe he has a preference, so call him what you will." For a short, tubby guy with a beak for a nose – literally – he spoke well. His voice, as well as his manner, was very congenial and genteel. "As for you, my dear, I suggest you get yourself presentable once again. It would do no good for the wife of Bruce Wayne to go back out to the party looking like she had just been in a fight."

"It is nice that you care so much," she snapped, picking up her shoes. "First that Crane guy tries to drive me all scardy fraidy cat, and then you send vamps in after me. It is nice to know I am appreciated."

"On the contrary, what would the people think if they knew that you were a slayer? They would think you were insane. Just like what they would think if they found out your husband was the Batman. Can you imagine the scandal?" He went about the room, shaking his head as he did. "Why, they would put the both of you in Arkham. And then what would happen to your daughter, or that boy that you have taken in? You must think of them."

"Is that a threat?" Buffy clenched her hands into fists.

"No, that is not a threat," Cobblepot stated. "I, the Penguin, do not make threats."

The _Penguin_? Now why didn't she see that one coming? It was as plain as the nose on his face.


	16. 15: Faith's Journey Part Yada Yada Yada

Notes: I watched The Dark Knight Rises last night for the first time, and it gave me a few ideas. So, I am letting everyone know right now that there will be a 3rd story. It will have all the characters of my first two stories, but with a twist I am sure you will all like. I just have to get done with this one first. I have 3 chapters written (all written last night!) and I am just waiting on my editior. Enjoy and thank you to everyone reading!

Chapter Fifteen: Faith's Journey: Part Yada Yada Yada

Faith didn't like this. She did not like it at all.

Spike had assured her that he would be in and out without any trouble. While she was reluctant to believe him (he was Spike after all), she really had no choice in the matter. She and Xander (mostly Xander) had kinda given him very little option, especially considering that they were trying to get more information on the strange silver-coated fang gang she and Xander had had the very opposite of pleasure in meeting the other night. And since Spike was a vampire, he would be able to get close to them since he was a member of the much larger clan of vamp as in plain old. And even though he was also a card carrying member of the much smaller vamp clan of 'with soul', she hadn't thought that would be a hindrance in the matter. Besides, she couldn't go in being a Slayer and all. A dusted vampire was a nonspeaking and no information-giving vampire. And Xander?

But Spike had yet to return and he should have. They had agreed they would meet at the airport, where the private jet was parked. Xander and she had been sleeping in the jet, instead of worrying about renting hotel rooms. Less questions that way. People had a tendency to notice when guests were leaving late at night and coming back early morning. And one, such as a Slayer, could not forget the fact that the bad guys usually followed her home, and innocents were the first to reap the pain from her living near them.

Xander was idly drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to some tune Faith had no idea of. Xander insisted on driving, and having one eye did not to hinder him too much, although she noticed he took a lot more right hand turns than left. Buffy had stated to her that it might not be a good idea to let Xander drive, and Alfred has stressed this also, citing that he could injure innocent people in the process. But Xander had been adamant and so far he had not let her down or hurt anyone either.

The night was mild, but cloudy. And no moon. From what little she had seen of the city so far, it wasn't making a positive impression on her. Sitting there, Xander still playing finger drums on the steering wheel, Faith suddenly wanted to go home. And, amazingly enough, for the first time in a very long time, she felt she had a home. When she had began to think of Gotham as her home? She had certainly spent more time in other places, carving out some sort of living while doing what she was chosen to do. Maybe it was the fact that in Gotham she actually had friends, people who wanted her around. And that is why she missed being there.

She had a job to do. Buffy had done this job for so long, sacrificed so much, and now Faith felt she was finally in a place where she could take over, carry the load so Buffy could enjoy the life she had. The life she deserved.

"I'm going for a walk. Call if Spike shows up." Not waiting for Xander to say anything, Faith got out of the car and began walking down the street. She turned a corner quickly knowing that Xander was watching her walk away in the rear view mirror.

It wasn't that she wanted to be alone or anything, or that she was (very) worried about Spike. She had a lot on her mind in the last few months. If Buffy had a (semi) normal life (and that was a stretch: she was still a Slayer, her husband dressed up as a giant rodent to fight crime, and their adopted son was a phenomena that she had yet to find a proper name for), but compared to before, globe hopping and demon eliminating, it was a normal as a Slayer could hope for. No Slayer in the history of Slayers had lived long enough to have anything resembling a life.

Faith shoved her hands into her jacket pocket, her senses on high alert. She sensed no danger around her, but better safe than sorry. Though she had not been a Slayer as long as B had, she was damn close and that was something she was proud of, especially considering the life she had led before. Her mother and alcoholic, her father absent from the picture: she had been a wild child, a murderer, and helped the old mayor of Sunnydale to his ascension. She had even spent time in prison. If Angel had not given her a chance, believed she could change, she never would have made it to Gotham, and never realized what life could be.

All around her the city was alive, and she could hear laughing, talking, and various other city noises around here. She stayed away from the crowds, choosing side streets with little or no traffic.

Slayer senses at full alert or not, she was startled none-the-less, when the old woman stepped out in front of her seemingly out of nowhere.

She was very old, wrinkled, and stooped with age. Her hands were covered with prominent blue veins and looked like claws. Her eyes were pale and milky, as if she was blind, but she looked up directly at Faith, into her eyes.

"You are the other Slayer." Not a question, but Faith nodded anyway. "You both must be wary. The Insurrection is close at hand. Do not ignore the signs that are given to you. You must stop him before it is too late. Before the Pool of Lazarus. For she that enters the pool in death will rise with the power over the undead."

Faith had many questions to ask, but just as she opened her mouth, her phone rang. She jumped as if it were a serpent biting her on the ass, and she reached back for, taking her eyes off the old woman for just a second. When she turned back, phone in hand, the old woman was gone.

Faith flipped the phone open, turning in circles to see where the woman had gone. She was nowhere in sight. "Hang on a mo', Xander," she told him as she jogged down the street one way and then another, but the woman was gone. "How can a person so old move so fast?" She asked out loud. Xander was yelling at her through the phone. There wasn't anything she could do now to find the old woman, so she put the phone to her ear. "I'm here. Stop yelling. What is it?"

"Spike is back. You have got to hear this."

"These vampires, with the silver teeth, are hiding out here."

"Hiding from what?"

"An Insurrection of some sort." That sounded familiar to Faith, but she was not about to interrupt again. "They coated their teeth with silver to protect them. Apparently the Immortal is going to raise an army and the general of that army is going to be some badass dude."

"'Going to be'?" Xander asked.

"Whoever this general is has not yet risen, or so the silver fangs said." Spike shrugged, puffing smoke in Xander's general direction, though he was nonchalant about it. Xander coughed and waved a hand in front of his face to ward the smoke away, but he said nothing. "Whoever it is supposedly will have some major mojo."

"So, why are the vamps hiding out? You would think that they would be gearing up and ready to go," Faith wondered out loud.

"You would think so, but apparently this general will have the power to control undead. _All _undead."

"Insurrection," Faith whispered suddenly, and her two cohorts turned to her in confusion. But then Xander's eye widened in realization.

"Oh no," he said, turning back around in his seat and starting the car.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Spike asked as he was slammed sideways into the back of the seat he was sitting in.

"The Insurrection. Buffy mentioned hearing about it before. That was what sent her to Gotham." Faith answered. "We have to get there and fast."

"Yeah," Xander said with a stiff nod, driving like a slightly controlled maniac.

"What is up with you Slayers and your love of mayhem," Spike said, shaking his head. "Leave it to Buffy to settle down in ground zero for an undead apocalypse."


	17. 16: Opposite of Party Crashing is

Notes: I am so on a roll. Forget the stupid short story I was working on. This is far more interesting to me now. I can't concentrate on writing anything else. I am halfway through Chapter 22 right now and moving along nicely. And I already have so much for the 3rd story in these series. I can't wait to work on it!

As usual, I own nothing. And the next chapter, there will be even more for me not to own or make a profit off of. I hope you like my surprise. Thank my friend Susanne for the idea to add my second favorite super hero to the story. ENJOY!

Chapter Sixteen: Opposite of Party Crashing is…?

Bruce entered the hall where all the guests were. One thing was for sure: Cobblepot spared no expense for his guests.

He knew everyone in attendance, and was stopped by them all as he tried to not look desperate in his search for his wife. Richard had come in with him, but the sneaky little boy had disappeared almost immediately. Maybe he would have better luck in finding her, Bruce thought as he greeted another person. One could almost think that this was his party, not Cobblepot's.

He glanced over the shoulder of who was standing in his way just in time to see Buffy exiting through two double doors, followed closely by a short, round man in a top hat and a tuxedo jacket with tails, a cane in his hand – or, and Bruce had to blink several times to make sure he was seeing correctly, a flipper.

Buffy spotted him almost immediately, and smiling at him, her eyes full of relief, she made her way across the room to him. "Excuse me. I need to talk to my husband," she said to the man Bruce had been talking to. She took Bruce's arm and gently, but firmly, pulled him toward the doors that she had just exited from, and that the strange man was still standing in front of.

"Honey, I would like you to meet Oswald Cobblepot," she stated, the smile on her face plastered on, and her eyes full of warning.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance, Mr. Wayne," Cobblepot stated, actually meaning it, or giving a very good impression of meaning it, as he shook Bruce's hand.

"Likewise," Bruce said, taking the offered…_hand_.

"Your wife is absolutely charming. You are one lucky man to have such a woman by your side. Women of her strength and character are very rare indeed." Cobblepot bowed to Buffy, sweeping his hat off once again to reveal his bald plate. Buffy shot a glance to Bruce, hoping that the Bat was not on break.

Bruce understood her completely, just by her body language alone. While he was not clued in on everything that had happened to his wife at this party, he knew that something significant had and that the little man in front of them was to blame for it. There was something about him, and not just his misshapen hands and strange demeanor, that put Bruce's senses on high alert.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have matters that I must attend to." And just like that, he was gone.

"What is going on here?" Bruce asked. Buffy had her hands wrapped around his arm, almost painfully so.

"We need to get home. And I mean 'home' as in Wayne Manor."

Richard appeared then. He looked up at Bruce and Buffy with a bizarre look on his face. "I do not know who that lady was, but she insisted on trying to pinch my cheeks off." His eyes met Bruce's and then Buffy's. "Oh, and by the way, this Penguin guy has a lot of ancient and cursed objects all around this place."

"Let's get back to the penthouse," Buffy stated. It was all she could do not to drag Bruce out of there. "We got some things to figure out."

"Hey, sweetness!"

Willow sat up, the rude awakening nearly scaring her out of her skin. She had fallen asleep, her head resting on a stack of open books, very old books, and there was a small spot of drool on the top one. Great, not only had she fallen asleep while researching, but she had drooled on the books too.

The words were repeated again, and for a few seconds she glanced around, trying to find the source of the voice and then it dawned on her: the words were in her head. The Riddler.

"What do you want?" She asked. Willow wanted nothing more than to put her head back down and go back to sleep. Then she remembered what she was researching and going back to sleep moved down to the second most thing she wanted to do.

"I just wanted to let you know that something big is going down. And I mean big."

"Yes, we know. The Immortal is trying to open the Hellmouth that is underneath Gotham."

"Yes, well, there is that, but I am talking about something else, darling. Something else entirely."

Willow was curious, she had to admit, but she didn't trust this guy and she did not know what he was capable of. He had accidently summoned a demon not too long ago, but then again that might have been accidental and it might not have been. All in all, she knew she had to take what he said seriously, but to keep the grain of salt on hand just in case it was needed.

"And what is the something else?" Willow asked, using the sleeve of her shirt to dot at the drool, and hoping it did not smear the text.

"Maybe you should be looking in those old tomes for something called the Lazarus Pit."

Vadoma sat back from the large crystal that sat in the center of the table. While most fortune tellers used crystal balls to foresee the future, or at least convince the naïve that was what they were doing, Vadoma did not bother with spheres of glass. No, she was no _drabardi_ out for a _bujo _on any _gaje_. Vadoma was _Phuri Dae, _the wisest of her clan, and the most powerful, and alsoone of the last in this day and age.

Her blood was old, untainted, and that was why she still had the power, the power to _see_. True _sight_ was something the younger gypsies only dreamed about, but would never be able to obtain. Vadoma's sight was a gift from Heaven passed down generation to generation.

She could also sense others with this power, and to find it in one so young was not only rare, but a surprise for her also. Never in her 103 years had she came across a sight so like her own in power and ability. But, then again, the source for that sight in one so young was open to her also, and learning of this made the truth much less of a surprise.

Vadoma took the crystal in her hands and smoothed it lovingly. This crystal had been in her family for generations, passed down like the power it enhanced. The ends were sharp and there were areas on the surface that would cut through skin, but she knew how to handle it without cutting herself. There were no cracks or blemishes and inside light danced, myriad colors magical in nature, even in the darkness.

As she stared into it, the lights inside suddenly became all green: a bright, unnatural green that glowed like poison and filled Vadoma with dread. The crystal, a shard if you will, about a foot in length and five inches across at its widest part, was not used to see things in. No, it was used to enhance the powers of the mind, to make images and things that needed to be known more susceptible to the mind's eye. Never before had the lights inside of the crystal changed. Never had she heard of it doing this in all the years that it had been in her family. Still, she continued to look, gazing even though her senses told her to look away. Through the green light she saw fire and death. And not just any death, for to gypsies and those who knew about the supernatural, there were many levels of death. _Undeath_.

A poison that gave unnatural life. A fire to consume the living. And the dead walking.

Vadoma cried out as the crystal in her hands began to burn her. As she felt her skin bubbling and could smell her flesh burning, the crystal flew from her hands and shattered against the wall, landing on the floor in hundreds of tiny pieces.

Buffy really wanted to slay something.

As she, her husband, and Richard sat in the backseat of the Rolls driven by Alfred, Buffy's senses were on high alert, and although she had just fought and slayed several vampires, she was itching to slay a few more.

She decided that her and Willow were going to go to the Mansion tomorrow, and Will could do whatever Wicca spells she had to do to make the place safe, and they were all going to move back in. Even Giles, who would complain about the long commute to the museum, but he would learn to appreciate it especially when the bad guys came around again and again and again. Like they always did. They never seemed to stop. And neither did her job as the Slayer. Even with Faith, and the others who had had their Slayer powers woken up by Willow, something always seemed to drag Buffy back into the fight. She was retired. She had a baby to raise and protect, and Richard to take care of.

But that was it, wasn't it? Protect? She had to protect the ones she loved, and as a Slayer she could do that. Her powers were not just for fighting evil and stopping the bad guys. It was also to defend those that needed it. As long as there were people out there, and not just her family and friends, which needed protection against whatever baddie came along, then it was her duty as a slayer to see to it that no harm came to them.

It was a blessing and a curse, and it was one she was going to have to deal with, along with balancing her other responsibilities.

She wondered if she would ever be able to have a normal life and glancing over at the man she loved and the boy she adored, she realized that it was not meant to be and she should just get over it and get on with her crazy life.

"We have to batten down the hatches," Bruce said as if reading her mind. She considered that amazing since sometimes she didn't even know what she was thinking. "Get out to the manor and make sure it is fortified."

"You should talk to Mr. Fox. He will be able to help," Richard stated. Then he shrugged, "Or at least knows someone who can."

"Good idea. I am going to get Willow on doing what she can."

"I have already been preparing for your return to the manor," Alfred told them from the front seat. Buffy was still not used to riding in the back seat. "First thing in the morning, we can return."

"Good. Not that I don't like the penthouse, but I'd feel safer closer to the ground." Buffy admitted, wondering if that was really the reason or not.

Bruce smiled at her, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "Everything will be fine." Again with the mind reading. Could he stop reminding her so often why she loved him?

"I know, but I can't help but wish Faith was still here and a little extra muscle could never hurt." She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. Up ahead, the penthouse loomed. She was anxious and nervous, about many different things. There were a few things that Willow, Giles, and Alfred needed to know, especially now that danger was on the horizon, even more so than average, but that could wait until they moved. She had gone from wanting to slay something to wanting to get home as quickly as possible and hold her daughter close.

"We're almost there," Richard said, peering around Bruce at her. He smiled, and she could not help but smile back, feeling a little more at ease. She knew that one might as well be reading minds, and she wondered if he was sort of like Cordelia had been to Angel, a conduit to the Powers That Be.

Would it be awkward if she asked Angel to come and help? Could they reach Faith and get her to come back? Just how much help would be enough? All these questions and many more plagued her mind as they pulled into the underground parking garage. It was funny that the Lamborghini and the Rolls were parked pretty much next to the Tumbler. Since having to move to the penthouse, Bruce had felt it necessary to establish his temporary Batcave, so-to-speak, closer since the main was out of the question while the manor was being rebuilt. The other secret place, underneath the area of the docks owned by Wayne Enterprises and accessible via a secret entrance in a shipping container, was no longer sensible. At least that was what Bruce said. Truth be told, he had just wanted to be closer to make sure he was available if he was needed. One bad guy had already crashed the penthouse, and since they all seemed to know Bruce was Batman and where he lived.

She liked the Penthouse, and enjoyed the view, but the manor just felt safer and seemed more defensible.

As they all climbed into the elevator, Richard looked up at her again, this time much more serious. "Faith is on her way."

"Great!" Buffy was actually happy about that, almost ecstatic actually. As the elevator climbed to the top floor, Bruce took his phone out.

"Sorry so late, Lucius, but I have to ask you…"


	18. 17: Expecting the Unexpected

Notes: Ok. Here we go. Just so you know, Batman is the only DC Comic line I like. I have never liked Superman. The reason why I say this is because I needed another heavy hitter, so I went to my second favorite comic book/movie franchise superhero. I hope you all like that I have added this character. Not to spoil the surprise, I am leaving the legal yada yada to the end of the chapter. Thank you!

Chapter Seventeen: Expecting the Unexpected.

The moment they could see the manor, Buffy gasped.

It was amazing how it looked exactly as it had before the Joker had blown it to smithereens.

Stepping inside was just as wonderful, and she automatically felt as if she were home again, safe and sound.

Everything was going to be all right.

Right?

Lucius had been more than happy to help and had told Bruce that he knew just the person to strengthen the defenses of both the manor and the Batcave. Bruce had been a little reluctant letting someone else in on his secret, but Lucius had promised that the person was dependable and would keep the secret. He must have told Bruce who the person was, because while still appearing a tad hesitant, he had agreed, disconnected the call, and no amount of coaxing from Buffy had gotten him to say anymore about the matter.

The manor was the same inside and out, just as if nothing had ever happened to it, but the Batcave still needed some work, since the crew who had rebuilt the manor hadn't even known it existed, let alone allowed to work on it.

There were rocks of various sizes all over the cave floor, the bats had reclaimed much of it, there was water where it had been and where it should not have been, and the computer equipment was toast.

"This is what is called major reconstruction. At least the foundation is stronger so the manor won't collapse on your head."

Bruce sighed as he looked around. "I was hoping we would be able to move the Tumbler back and have the computers up and running within the week, but that isn't going to happen." He sighed again, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against a table that had miraculously lucked out of being destroyed.

"I hope the guy Lucius knows is a miracle worker." Buffy could not help but feel a little bit discouraged. Then she saw the look on her husband's face, and the slight smile that was there.

"He is."

The next morning, after having to go back and forth to the penthouse and not look suspicious for doing so, Buffy woke up, and, carrying Marti downstairs for a late breakfast, found Lucius sitting with Alfred and Willow, drinking coffee in the kitchen.

"A pleasure, as always," Lucius said with a smile, standing to hug her. His smile widened when he gazed at Marti who was waving her fists around as if just daring someone to get close enough. Definite Slayer-to-potentially-be there. "She is as lovely as her mother."

"Are you sure?" Buffy glanced down at her daughter, studying her closely. "I think you are just saying that to be nice. She looks like her father."

Lucius just laughed and returned to his seat. While they had been conversing, Alfred had left the table and returned with a cup of coffee for Buffy and a bottle for Marti. He then immediately took the infant from her mother's arms and sat down, offering the baby the bottle which she excepted with gusto. Buffy smiled, wondering in her head if she was a bad mother, but sat down to enjoy her coffee.

"So, when is your anonymous guest showing up?" Buffy asked, never having loved coffee more than the coffee that Alfred made. The Bronze's hadn't been nearly this good, and she had thought it had been pretty good back when.

"He's already here," Lucius told her, smiling again, this time a little mischievously. "Arrived this morning and is already hard at work."

"He's in the cave with Bruce and Richard." Willow smiled also, just as impishly.

"You've met him?" Buffy was a little peeved. Bruce had told her he knew the guy, but would say nothing else.

"Yeah. He walked in the door like he owned the place, looked around, said it was very outdated, but doable, and then asked where the Batcave was and off he went." Willow giggled. "He is definitely a piece of work."

"I can't wait to meet him," Buffy admitted, but she made no move to get up. She wanted to enjoy her coffee before the evident drama dragged her in, and there would be drama, she just knew there would be.

"Are you sure he is going to keep all of this a secret?" Alfred asked in concern.

"He blabs a lot, but not about anything important. Don't worry," Lucius said, putting Alfred at ease. "He knows when to keep his mouth shut, even though it seems at times like he doesn't."

"Okay, that's it," Buffy said, setting her empty cup down and standing to her feet. "I have so got to meet this guy."

"Make sure everything is alright," Alfred called after her. "I have a feeling Master Bruce and he might not see eye to eye on a few things."

"No!"

"Why not? Come on. I won't change the way your suit looks. I will just make it better."

"My 'suit' is fine the way it is."

"Are you nuts or more nuts than I think you are, at least? I know that the Kevlar is more durable than what is on the market, and the titanium meshing is superb – what else would you expect from Lucius Fox – but in our line of work, you know that it is not enough."

Bruce sighed. "You'll stick with the design. Just strengthen what is necessary?"

"Of course. Whatever you want. I promise."

This is the conversation that Buffy heard as she exited the elevator. It had amazed her that the thing worked, and she couldn't help but be thankful to this guy for having fixed it. After having to jump through the waterfall to get in (giving her husband a 'boost' before she did so), Buffy was very glad something was back to normal.

When she rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks. She knew that her eyes were the size of saucers, and it felt as if her jaw were bouncing on the floor, but given what she was seeing, it couldn't be helped.

All the rocks were gone. The water had been diverted to where it was supposed to be flowing. Not only were the lights back up, but there were more of them. There were tables sat up, and a large screen, at least 80 inches, sat up along the back wall, connected to all kinds of computer equipment. There was a map of Gotham displayed on it.

Bruce was at the computer, looking at several smaller screens in front of him, alone. There was noise from a side room, so Buffy assumed that was where the other guy was.

"This is amazing," Buffy exclaimed, coming up behind her husband, and wrapping her arms around his neck from behind. "Who is this guy?"

Bruce chuckled. "An old acquaintance." He turned his chair around, and motioned off to the side of the cave where Buffy turned to see their mystery guest standing. He had short dark hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. He wore jeans and a Metallica t-shirt. And, trying not to be rude but leaning a little forward to see if what she saw was actually what she was seeing, the center of his chest under the shirt was…_glowing._

"This is my wife, Buffy," Bruce said, standing and putting one arm around her. "Buffy, may I present to you Tony Stark."

"Tony Stark? No way. Our mystery guest is Iron Man."

"Okay, this is what I have planned. Now, everyone pay attention. That goes especially for you, sweetheart," Tony Stark stated, giving the appearance of being all responsibility and seriousness, but Buffy could not help but giggle. His eyes and the business end of the pen he held in his hand, was pointing at Bruce. He then shifted his gaze to Buffy. "And you too, Mrs. Sweetheart."

Bruce sighed, leaning back against the table and folding his arms over his chest. He and Buffy were the only ones in the cave besides Stark.

"Now, while someone likes to pretend he is as daft as a billionaire playboy should be, he's not, so I am only going to say this once. There will be a brief pause here and there for questions. I will tell you when."

He stood in front of the computer, facing it and opened his arms out wide. Then he spun back to them, arms still out. "First of all I am going to slap some paint here and there, add a killer sound system, some running lights, a bar along that wall, and maybe a hot tub in that corner over there."

"Tony!" Bruce said, in warning. Well, it was Bruce's mouth that said the words, but the voice was the Batman's.

Pausing for only a second, bouncing once on his heels, Tony started again, "I am going to bring you up to the 21st century, at least this cave anyway. I will place cameras all through the manor and the grounds, and _no,_" the word was drawn out slowly, "I will not damage the walls or paint or whatever. At least now very much." He put his arms down, and tossed the pen onto the table nearest him. "All of them will run to this computer. As I speak, J.A.R.V.I.S. is integrating himself to you Bat computer. He likes it, for some reason. Says that it is the best conversation he has ever had." He paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling in thought. "He is such a smartass. Anyway, I am going to upgrade your suit, update your car, and pretty much this entire cave. I am going to be moving a lot of stuff in, but no one will see me, don't worry. I can fly under the radar when I need to." He walked over to another table, and began fiddling with something on it, muttering to himself.

"Did you say my car? Do you mean the Tumbler?" Bruce asked, pushing himself from the table, arms still folded over his chest. Stark kept mumbling to himself, either too engrossed in what he was doing to hear what Bruce was saying or just flat out ignoring him. Buffy remained where she was, wondering just how well this partnership was going to go along.

"Wh-what?" Tony turned around to face him. When he saw the look on Bruce's face, he rolled his eyes. "It is not question time. I didn't say so, but yes, I meant the Tumbler."

"What are you going to do with it?"

Tony turned in a circle once, twice, and then looked wide eyed at Bruce. "I just told you: I am going to fix it. Now, return to your seat. I'm not done."

Bruce sighed loudly, and Buffy could just about picture him stomping his foot in irritation. She expected him to argue, but instead, he came back to the table she was sitting on and leaned against it once again, his mouth set in a tight line. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He just shook his head.

"I am going to run your cave and all of its equipment on an A.R.C. Reactor. I am going to shield it all, including the Tumbler and your suit. Being connected to J.A.R.V.I.S. will give your computer access to everything that I know and will also keep you connected to not only your satellites, but mine also. If something goes wrong in this city, you will know it. More than likely before the police do. I will make sure that no one but your chosen few can get down that elevator even if the manor is breeched, which will be highly unlikely. What happened before will not happen again, I promise you that. And then I will strengthen the security of Wayne Enterprises as well, so no one can hack into the computers."

He turned back to Bruce and Buffy, after having walked and talked his way pretty much around the entire cave.

"Alright," Bruce said, nodding, his muscles loosening as his anger and annoyance slipped away. "Do whatever you have to do. I trust you."

Stark put both his hands over his heart, going all doe-eyed. His bottom lip quivered slightly, and then he reached up as if brushing away a tear. Buffy had to giggle again. Bruce just sighed again.

"There is something we need to do first," Bruce announced, putting his hands in his pockets and pushing himself off the table once again.

"Oh. And what is that, sunshine?" Tony mimicked the hands in pockets thing, titling his head to the side.

"I think it is time for a more public partnership."

Ok, there ya go. I do not own Batman, Buffy, Or Iron Man. They are owned by their respective owners. DUH! I am making no money off of this.

Reviews are welcome.


	19. 18: Friends with Benefits

Notes: Tony gets kinda windy in the latter part of this chapter. And I have to say that a few of the modifications I got from a novel written by Tracey Hickman called _Wayne of Gotham_ or something like that. I will be posting another chapter in the next few days, but I am waiting on my editor. She has decided that she wants to play Harvest Moon on the Wii and keeps forgetting to edit. Thanks Mom!

As usual, I own nothing. DC, Marvel, and whoever it is that owns Buffy, do. No profit, and blah blah blah blah! Enjoy!

Chapter Eighteen: Friends with Benefits

"So, let me get this straight." Alfred sat back, calmly, by all appearances. "You are going to merge Wayne Enterprises with Stark Industries?"

"Well, not all of it, Alfred," Bruce said sipping his coffee and scanning the Gotham Herald in front of him. Marty was tucked against his left shoulder, sound asleep, drooling on the material of the very expensive suit her father wore. "Just certain parts of it."

"And how is Wayne Enterprises merging – partially – with Stark Industries a smart thing to do?"

"It is a very smart thing to do, Alfred." Bruce sat his coffee cup down and ran his hand over Marti's head, smiling at the feel of her brown curls so soft under his fingers. "We switch contracts over to Stark Industries, but only certain ones to make it look good, and then he silently merges with Lucius' department, and no one is any the wiser."

"But how is this going to keep away the suspicion?"

"What suspicion?"

Alfred sighed, clearly running low on patience. "Everyone in the bloody world knows that Tony Stark is the Iron Man. Batman is in Gotham City. Aren't you afraid that some people, even if it is just a rumor, might think that Bruce Wayne is the Batman, considering that his company is merging with Tony Stark's, who is, as I have mentioned, the Iron Man?"

"No 'the'."

"I beg your pardon, sir." Alfred sat up a little straighter.

"I said no 'the' as in _the_ Iron Man. It is just 'Iron Man'." Bruce hid his smile behind his coffee cup; Alfred sighed again and stood from his seat.

"Are you sure he is not going to go off and tell everyone," Alfred asked, trying a new tactic.

"Yes, Alfred, I am sure."

The butler picked up the coffee urn and filled his charge's cup. "Why do I get the feeling that there is going to be a repeat of the incident that happened the last time he was here."

"Alfred," Bruce said with a scowl. "He is not going to blow anything up. Besides, you have to admit, for a brief moment, this manor was totally off the grid, electricity wise."

"Yes, a brief moment, sir, and then he blew the power grid for all the Palisades. Not only did your father have to explain what had happened to the City Council, but he had to pay to get it fixed." Bruce hid his smile once again, this time by using Marti's head as he rubbed his cheek against her soft hair. "It was bad enough that your father and Howard Stark did not get along, but then Mr. Stark had to go and insult the mayor."

"Tony didn't do it on purpose, but the mayor thought he had, on his father's advice. Howard was just standing up for his son."

"And himself."

"Yeah, well…"Bruce trailed off. "And besides, my father and Howard Stark didn't get along because each thought the worst of each other."

"Your father being a pacifist is not the worst one can think of another," Alfred said with a scolding tone.

"You know what I mean," Bruce answered back, trying not to yell and wake Marti up as Alfred left the room in what Buffy called a 'British huff.'

"Oh, thank God. Coffee." Tony sauntered into the room. He literally plopped down in the chair Alfred had vacated a few moments ago, and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"How's it going?" Bruce asked as he took in the other man's rumpled hair and tired appearance.

"Can I wake up first before you start bombarding me with questions?"

"It was one question, Tony, not a bombardment."

Tony sighed, fixing his half opened eyes on Bruce. "Ya know, sunshine, you can be a real jerk sometimes."

Bruce snorted, and then, placing a securing hand behind his daughter's head, stood up. "Bring your coffee, and come on."

Reluctantly, Tony followed. He even dragged his feet like a scolded schoolboy, but he followed Bruce upstairs, and leaned on the doorframe, waiting patiently, as Bruce put Marti in her crib and pulled a blanket up around her. She cooed, swinging her tiny fists and kicking her feet for a few seconds, but didn't wake up. Bruce ushered Tony out of the doorway and closed the door softly behind them.

"Listen," Bruce said, looking his friend in the eyes. There were a few years difference in their ages, Tony being the oldest, but Bruce had always been the more mature of the two. And still was. "Something is about to happen in Gotham, something serious, and if we don't stop it, it could, more than likely will, spread to the corners of the globe. Things have to be ready for when the time comes when we have to make sure that it doesn't happen."

Tony stared back at him, suddenly wide awake. "I know that, damn it! Why do you think I stayed up all night? Why did I fly from Gotham to Malibu and back again four times last night? Why do you think I haven't slept in 36 hours? Don't talk to me about saving the world like you have the corner market on it because you don't. Just because I go about it differently than you do, slinking around in the shadows, hiding behind a mask, doesn't mean I don't understand the severity of the situation."

Bruce sighed. "I'm sorry," he said. They were both still standing in front of the door to the room where Marti was sleeping, and he was glad they had managed to keep their voices down. "And I don't _slink_."

"Uh-huh. Sure you don't. And the sun don't shine and the lollipops are dancing." He waved away the look of disquiet Bruce was giving him. "Give me a break. I'm not at my best. I haven't had a drink in two days." Tony turned and walked back to the stairs. "You should come and see what I've gotten done so far. I think you will like it."

"I had better," Bruce mumbled as he followed.

"Your damn right you better."

Okay. Bruce didn't exactly like it.

He liked it _a lot_.

In fact, he was damn near loving it.

What Tony Stark had managed to do in just over 24 hours was nothing short of amazing.

The computer in the center of the cave was up and obviously fully linked up to J.A.R.V.I.S. as promised. Other screens, the ones Tony preferred, floated about, showing various things from rooms of the house to news broadcasts to security footage of banks, the court house, Arkham, and Blackgate Prison, among others. In front of the computer, some twenty feet from it, was the Tumbler sitting atop what looked like some sort of glass, circular, the length of the car in diameter. A blue light pulsed beneath it.

"That scans the vehicle from underneath and sends the information directly to the computer. And then the computer makes sure that everything is alright, from the onboard computer to the air in the tires. It will repair what it can, but the air in the tires; well, that is your problem."

He then led Bruce back behind the computer to where his Bat armor was. "It looks the same," Bruce said, shrugging.

"On the outside, like I promised. On the inside, however," Tony began. "Your cowl now has optical prosthetics. Meaning, that when you put the cowl on, it connects to your brain, in a manner of speaking, by sensors. Nothing that you are even going to notice or feel. The optical lenses, if you wish, will cover your eyes, and will show you what you want to see however you want to see it. Infrared, sonar, you name it. With it, the computer can map what is all around you. You will have eyes in the back, top, and sides of your head.

"Also, I strengthen the joints and the thin places. No bullets less than 40 caliber are going to get through this armor, and especially not knives or dogs. And not only will it still bend and move like it did before, but the computer will actually anticipate your moves, and help the suit move _with you_.

"The cape is the same material, except now just a thought from you and the HUB will relay information to the sensors in the back and supply the electrical current needed to make the cloth take the bat wings shape so you can fly, hands free.

"The computer in the armor is not only connected to the one here, but the one in the Tumbler as well." Tony took a deep breath and then started again. "I also took the liberty of using my very own metal, which I invented, to make you new batarangs and I improved your grapple gun. The computer in the Tumbler and your armor can jam signals of all kinds. No one is going to be able to track you by the computer, it is all shielded. And lastly, but certainly not least, I upgraded the Tumbler's armor, just in case you get in the way of another rocket."

Bruce shook his head again, wanting to open his mouth and speak, but pretty sure words would fail him. After a few moments, he chuckled in disbelief. "I can't believe you did all of this. This…This is amazing."

"What did you expect? Really, Bruce, it is _me_ after all."

"Yeah," Bruce agreed, still taken aback by what was before him. He looked at his friend, smiling. "I should have known better." Then he sobered quickly. "I'm sorry that I doubted you."

"It's no big deal," Tony said with a shrug.

"Yes. Yes, it is. We have been friends for a long time, and while there have been times when I have been absolutely sure you would, you have never let me down, and I am truly sorry for that."

Tony waved him away, walking past him. "Yeah, well, I can't blame you for doing it. For doubting me, I mean. I haven't exactly been the most reliable person." Tony snorted, stopping at a table and picking up a random piece of something. Bruce turned to watch him. "I am surprised you didn't throw me out the door the second I stepped through it. I have not been the friend I should have been. The friend I wanted to be." He tossed the thing in his hand onto the table. He then placed both palms on the table surface and leaned over it. "I wasn't there – at all. I should've been. When you called me that day, and asked for that gun, I knew in my heart what you were going to do and I was going to let you do it. Even though that little voice inside of my head was telling me not to, that it was going to ruin your life the moment you shot Chill, but I had other things to do. What you were going through, what you were going to do, should have been more important to me. Instead of getting you that gun, I should have flown my ass down here and talked, punched, and kicked; whatever I had to do to knock some sense into you."

"It turned out for the best," Bruce said quietly, coming to stand next to the other man. "Besides, you didn't let me down. It was I who let you down."

Tony chuckled. "And how the hell did you do that?"

"I could have looked for you myself."

Tony shook his head, laughing quietly. "And you think that Batman could have taken on a cave full of Stark-Industries-armed-terrorists?"

"He could have tried."

Tony sighed, looking at his friend. "Okay, so we are both a couple of screw-ups. We saw it coming years ago. There is no denying it."

"True," Bruce said as they both walked toward the elevator. "But we are well armored screw-ups."

"Damn straight," Tony said, giving a mock salute. They both laughed as they got into the elevator. It lurched violently and then began to ascend. "I'm gonna fix that. As soon as I have some lunch, I will get right on it. Do you think Alfred is still mad at me from that incident nearly 30 years ago?"

"No," Bruce scoffed, shaking his head. "He's forgotten all about it."

"You always did suck at lying."


	20. 19: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Notes: Finally getting to some action. Sorry it took so long. I love reviews. I own nothing. DC, Warner Brothers, Marvel, Paramount, and Disney do. And who owns Buffy? Fox? Whedon? Who?

Chapter Nineteen: Something Wicked This Way Comes

"So, this is what we have so far," Willow began. Everyone was seated around the dining room table. Now that they were settled once again in the manor, it was time to get back on track. So far, everything had been quiet, but Buffy, as well as Bruce and even Tony, knew that this was just the calm before the storm.

"The Riddler suggested that I look into something called the Lazarus Pit. It wasn't easy, let me tell you. Giles finally discovered something about it."

"Yes, in the Watcher Diaries," Giles said. He had insisted on staying at the museum just in case, and Buffy had expressed her extreme dislike of this idea, but he would not budge on the matter. He took an old book out of his satchel and sat it on the table. "According to this book, the Lazarus Pit has the ability to bestow upon anyone who submerges themselves into it with incredibly long life."

"So that is how Ra's al Ghul has been alive for all these years," Buffy stated.

"Yes, but as with all things of such nature, there is a drawback. In this case, there are two." Giles glanced around, making sure he had everyone's undivided attention before he continued. "The first is that the pool can only be used so many times before it disappears and reappears at a new location. The second is that whoever uses the Lazarus Pit, in this case Ra's al Ghul, has to use it again within a certain amount of time or face dire consequences."

"Such as?" Alfred asked.

"The years catch up with him," Tony piped in. "Literally." He gave the impression he was not paying attention, but he was which was good. Bruce had told him everything that had gone on in the past year or so, and he had taken it all in stride. He had also agreed to stick around, which Buffy was sure was a good thing. It didn't take a lot of brain power to figure out that the Iron Man armor gave Tony much more strength than even she as a Slayer had, and that would come in handy, she was sure. It also hadn't taken much to convince Bruce of this either.

"So, if he doesn't get back to the Pit, he becomes a 600 year old…corpse," Willow said, smiling. "Great. So all we have to do is find this pit and destroy it. Easy-peasy."

"The Pit cannot be destroyed," Giles stated in the oh so familiar grave tone he reserved for such news. Willow's smile disappeared instantly. "It is immortality itself. It can be buried because it will stay where it is until it has been used the designated times that it has to be before relocation."

"And I take it that just the act of finding it is not going to be so simple either." Bruce was shaking his head, his gaze drifting to the open windows. Night was soon to come, and he, like his wife, had a feeling that something was close to happening.

"Against what I first believed, the Pit was not created with black magic or any other kind of magic. It is a mystical occurrence, by all accounts, natural in nature." Giles was studying the book as he spoke, though he had read it several times all ready.

"I might be able to home in on it. With a spell, I mean." Willow moved to where she could see the book also.

"Get on it," Buffy stated, jumping from her chair. She had an itch to patrol. Something was pulling at her Slayer senses with some major strength. It was making her anxious and twitchy. "We've got to get out there. Something's gonna happen."

Bruce stood and so did Tony.

"What are you doing?" Bruce asked him.

"If you think that I am going to sit here and let you two go out after everything you've told me, you've got another thing comin'."

"I need you to stay here," Bruce argued. Everyone was sitting still, waiting to see where this was leading. More than likely it was leading to a fight.

"I didn't come here to babysit. No offense," he said to all at the table. "I have the security on this place tighter than NORAD and if J.A.R.V.I.S. detects the slightest thing, I can be back here in seconds. And besides," he said flippantly. "I can get my armor on with just a word, so I really don't think you can stop me from going."

Bruce drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Alright. Fine."

"Don't remember asking your permission, but thanks just the same," Tony snapped back.

Buffy followed Bruce as he followed Tony to the piano room. Tony had done more than fixed the elevator to the cave: he had installed a new one behind the bookcases closer to the windows, a much larger and sturdier one. And quieter also. He had left the shaft for the other one since Richard had so much fun 'monkeying down it', as he put it.

Once down in the cave, Bruce went to his bat armor, while Buffy got her weapon of choice, her axe, and Tony sat on a table, tapping a tune out while he waited.

"You really need something that offers better protection than a turtleneck sweater and leather pants," he told Buffy.

"I had something. Lucius made it for me, but it wasn't my thing, so I loaned it to Faith." She shrugged and then swung her axe around a couple of times. "I have survived this long without armor. I'll keep on."

She noticed the shift in Tony's eyes. It hadn't taken her long to figure out when he was joking and when he was not. It was difficult at times, but she also learned that when he had something important to say, he didn't beat around the bush. Hell, she thought, he just blasted his way through the bush.

"What?" She asked.

"He doesn't want you out there," he told her in a whisper. She realized that he was not telling her this to cause trouble: he really was concerned. She also realized that he agreed with Bruce. "This place is fortified, don't get me wrong, but –"

"But what?"

He sighed and then looked her straight in the eyes. "I know what you are and what you feel you have to do, but look at it from his point of view. This is Ra's al Ghul, the man he studied under, trained under, to become the Batman. A man that betrayed him and tried to destroy Gotham. All other things aside, this is his fight, not yours. Not the Slayer's."

"It isn't Iron Man's fight either," she argued.

"No, but Iron Man doesn't have a baby to protect. Or another on the way."

Buffy could not hide her surprise. "How? How do you know that?"

"I have J.A.R.V.I.S. set up all through this place, above and below. He hears and sees. And he was monitoring, not spying." Tony slid off the table. He motioned vaguely at Bruce, never taking his eyes off of Buffy. "He has enough to agonize over without worrying about you being out there getting hurt, or something happening to cause you to lose that baby."

"But he expects me to stay here and worry about something happening to him?" Her argument was weak, but she had to make it.

"That is what I am going to be out there for. Trust me when I say this, Buffy: I will not let anything happen to him."

She did trust him and she knew that, as bad as she wanted to, her job as a Slayer was not needed, at least for now.

Bruce, or better yet Batman, approached them, eyeing them warily. "Something wrong?"

"I am going to stay here," Buffy said, placing her axe down on the table. "As fortified as this place is, why leave it to chance. You never know. And I would feel better knowing that Marti and the others are safe and that is best done with me being here, with them."

She saw the almost nonexistent relief that he allowed to flash in his eyes, before he just nodded curtly and went to the Tumbler. Buffy heard Tony sigh behind her.

"I am glad I don't become someone different when I am Iron Man," he mumbled. "J.A.R.V.I.S. Deploy."

Buffy turned just in time to see the floor open up and mechanical arms and gizmos as they flew out. As he walked over the area, the armor was placed on him expertly and with a precision and speed that was amazing to behold.

"Show off," she heard the Bat comment before taking his seat in the Tumbler. His eyes met hers briefly, relaying so much more between them than words ever could.

"I love you," she whispered anyway. His mouth turned up into a smile ever so slightly, and then the Tumbler was tightly sealed and as it made its flight through the waterfall, Iron Man flying along above it, she had the horrible feeling that she would not see her husband again.

Richard sat up with a start. He fumbled for the light beside his bed, noticing on the clock near the lamp that it was just a few minutes after 9 o'clock. He had been ushered off to bed just an hour before so the adults could have their meeting.

He really didn't mind being treated like a child, because he was a child, and he had a feeling he didn't really want to know what was going on anyway. There were times when he just knew, as he seemed to know so many things that he shouldn't, that this was the one time when he should just stay at home and pretend he was a normal boy, and that none of this concerned him.

What had waked him up? It had been the feeling that someone had come into his room. And, as he gazed around, he saw that he was alone in the room, but he knew that he truly wasn't. There was a presence here with him. One of evil and corruption and he wanted to flee. He wanted to run screaming out of the room and down the hall for _Ruh Baba _or _Ruh Anna _to come and help him. To chase it away.

"Keep your tongue, boy," a voice said, and Richard froze. Try as he might, he could not move. Out of the dark corner of the room where the lamp's light did not reach emerged a man. He was dressed in a carefully tailored suit and had short graying hair and facial hair.

"Ra's al Ghul," Richard stated barely over a whisper. His breath came out in huffs as if he were standing out in the cold.

The man nodded, smiling pleasantly, disarmingly, even though Richard knew better. "Yes, that is I. And I have come to tell you that if you do not come to me, alone, I will harm those that you love." He lifted his chin and seemed to be studying something. "There is a baby in the next room. I would hate to have to harm her, and I could. Do not force my hand, boy."

Richard nodded slowly, and climbed from the bed. He had on his pajamas, and he slipped his feet into his tennis shoes near the foot of the bed. Wanting to cry, but managing to hold back the tears, he reached his hand toward Ra's al Ghul.

"Good boy," the man said, clasping Richard's hand in his gently. And as gentle as a breeze, they were gone leaving the room empty.


	21. 20: Ironing out our Differences

Notes: Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed my story. I really appreciate it. And to Rune Tobor, their time is coming!

Chapter Twenty: Ironing out our Differences

As Iron Man, Tony was used to being fired upon. He was also used to the bad guys he fought being a little bit more – what was the word? – normal.

Why was he surprised that Gotham's criminals were different?

There was the one guy with the big gun and a fish bowl on his head. A fish bowl. On his head. What the hell was that about?

Then there was the woman dressed in what looked like vines and leaves. Not a bad look, in his opinion, but the way they seemed to slither around her like they were snakes was just creepy.

And then there was the guy with the burlap sack over his head and the other one in a suit with coat tails and a cane. A scarecrow and a penguin?

He wasn't seeing anything that he needed to be afraid of, that was for sure, but when J.A.R.V.I.S. told him that Batman was on the communicator, he decided he had better hear what he had to say before he made any definite decisions on the loony foursome.

"Yo."

There was a brief silence. "The man with the weapon calls himself Mr. Freeze. The suit he wears is environmentally controlled. He can't live outside of a subzero climate. The weapon emits a ray of freezing cold that solidifies on impact."

"Not a problem," Iron Man stated. His sensors told him that the Tumbler was right below him in an alley, out of site of the foursome who was standing in the middle of the street like they owned the place. From his vantage point, he could see no one else around. Even tapping into cameras around the area, he could discern no others waiting in the wings. "Why are they out here? Waiting for us? Like they knew we were coming."

"They know I am, but not you," Batman said at length. "The woman calls herself Poison Ivy and she can control plant life. Scarecrow has a weaponized hallucinogen in vapor form and the Penguin, I believe, has bombs in the form of mechanical penguins, but I suspect he has more tricks up his sleeve."

"When Freeze starts firing that weapon of his, you better let me handle it, sunshine," Tony told him.

"Alright," Batman answered. No argument! No 'stop calling me that" or anything expressing his displeasure in the most minute way. Tony was speechless. "I'll go in first. Like I said, they don't know that you are here."

"Gotcha. Just give me the signal. And don't do anything stupid until I get there."

"I'll try," was the gruff response and then communications ended.

Tony didn't like this. It smelled of a trap and something else. Of course it was a diversion: he knew it and Bruce knew it also, but maybe Iron Man being here, and if the hope was still true that it was not known to the bad guys that he was, would give them time to take care of these clowns and find that Pit before Ra's al Ghul had a chance to use it.

"Hold it right there, Batman," Mr. Freeze said, his ice ray pointed directly at Batman who had come strolling out of the shadows as if he had nothing to worry about from the four standing before him.

"Such bravado is not usually your style," the Scarecrow stated. Freeze did not like Dr. Jonathan Crane. Freeze, before the accident, had been a scientist – a real scientist – and thus he did not hold psychology to much credence. Besides that, he thought the man an insult to what little providence his profession held. He was as insane as those he had sworn to help, if not more so.

Freeze did not want to be here. He wanted to be with his dear Nora, but Ra's al Ghul had said that he was more needed here, with these buffoons, to make sure that the process was not disturbed. Freeze had reluctantly agreed.

Anything to have the love of his life, the meaning of his existence, back with him. To see her smile was worth more than anything in this world to him.

He had no quarrel with Batman, but he would stop Ra's al Ghul before he could heal Nora, and thus he must be stopped.

"Whatever it is Ra's al Ghul wants you to do, you need to rethink it," Batman said. He was just standing there, as still as the shadows he had just stepped out of, but it was still unnerving.

"I cannot do that, I am afraid," Mr. Freeze said. "Thus you leave me no choice in this." And he activated the freeze way.

It should have frozen Batman solid. That is, if it had reached him.

The freeze ray had no effect, however, on what landed between Freeze and Batman.

"Is that a robot of some sort?" The Penguin actually took a step forward, seemingly mesmerized by the gold and red armor.

"Not a robot," Iron Man said. "Not per se, at least."

"You were supposed to wait for the signal," Batman stated from behind him.

"We never discussed what the signal was supposed to be," Tony snapped, turning his head around to glare. A glare that could not be seen because of the helmet but he made the effort anyway. "And how about a 'thank you' for saving you from being a batscicle?"

"Vine," Batman said flatly.

"Vine?" Iron Man had absolutely no idea what the hell he was talking about. "What vine?"

"Sir," J.A.R.V.I.S.' voice sounded inside the helmet. At that very moment, something wrapped tightly around one of Iron Man's ankles.

"Oh! That vine." With a strength he had not expected, the vine whipped around, lifting him up off the ground and slammed him into the nearest wall. And then on the ground and then the ground again and then again. Just as it was about to slam him down once more, the vine was cut. He managed to get stabilized, landing on his feet, instead of his head. Looking from the bat-shaped projectile buried in the wall, the still twisting part of a vine on the ground, and finally to the two holes in the street, Tony muttered, "Why does being slammed repeatedly into the ground seem so familiar?"

"Are you alright, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. asked.

"Never better." Though his armor had taken a pounding. There were dents here and there.

Thanks to the display inside of his helmet and the sensors he had placed when he upgraded the Bat armor, he knew where Batman was and what he was doing and vice versa. The sonar display in the cowl was very resourceful, allowing Batman to see Freeze, Poison Ivy, and the Penguin as they moved to surround them. The Scarecrow had disappeared, but that didn't mean he wasn't still around waiting for the right opportunity.

"As remarkable as that armor is, how long do you think it can stand against my penguin bombs?" Pointing his umbrella, the Penguin began to laugh as dozens of the foot tall penguin shaped robots began to waddle out of the side streets, quacking all the way.

"You have got to be kidding me," Tony said.

"He said 'bombs'. So I imagine they do more than fire the weapons they are holding," Batman stated. Standing back to back in the street, Mr. Freeze on one side, the Penguin, and his ridiculous robots on another, and Poison Ivy coming around to complete the triangle, they both contemplated a strategy. "Well, got any ideas?"

"Yeah, I have a few. One in particular." The grenade launcher on Iron Man's upper arm opened up and sent a barrage into the mechanical penguins. On impact, the grenades set off a chain reaction, detonating the bombs inside the robots, creating a loud explosion that shook the ground and blew the glass out of the windows of the surrounding buildings.

"My penguins!" Cobblepot screeched as he dove for cover.

"No more of that," Poison Ivy cried and vines erupted from the ground, sending pieces of the street flying. The vines, moving so it was hard to count, attacked all at once, entrapping both Batman and Iron Man and holding them upside down over the mangled street.

"Any more brilliant ideas?" Batman asked, trying hard to move. He knew that the improvements Tony had made to his armor were the only thing keeping the vines from crushing as they tried to do before in Botanical Gardens.

"I came up with the last one. It's your turn," Iron Man suggested, much more calmly than he actually felt. Though doing little damage to his armor, the vines were thick and rather strong, holding him fast.

"Propulsion system," was Batman's 2-cents on the matter.

"Could you be a little more cryptic? Just a little bit. I don't think that is too much to ask." But Tony fired up the propulsion system. "J.A.R.V.I.S., full power to forward thrusters."

"Of course, sir." The robotic voice was flat, but surprisingly not as flat as Iron Man's companion.

With a little strain, the propulsion system shot forward, pulling most of the vines apart, and the rest completely out of the ground. Screaming as if in pain, Poison Ivy collapsed on the ground and when she did so, all the vines went limp and lifeless. Batman managed to land on his feet, spinning on Mr. Freeze.

"Believe me when I say I do not want to harm you, Batman, but I have to keep you from stopping Ra's al Ghul."

"Why? What is he planning?"

"He promised he would give me back my wife, Nora. I had her suspended cryogenically until I could cure her. He swore to me that he knew how." Mr. Freeze kept his freeze ray fixed on Batman, but made no move to use it.

Iron Man landed next to Batman, the already decimated area of street crumbling even more under his weight. He shook off what bits of vine still clung stubbornly to him. "And how did he plan to do that?"

Mr. Freeze stood still and silent for long moments, and then finally lowered the freeze ray completely. His face was unreadable, but there was a definite change in his demeanor. "He said that there is a pit, the Lazarus Pit, which could restore her. All he had to do was find it and she would be alive and whole again."

"You sound doubtful," Batman noted.

"Yes, though he has given me no reason to, I doubt his sincerity."

"If he hasn't found it, then why are you and your cohorts out here trying to delay us?" Tony asked, actually taking his helmet off. Bruce sighed inwardly.

"Ra's al Ghul said that tonight he would find it, because he would have the means to lead him."

"The means? Did he say what that was?"

Mr. Freeze shook his head. "All he stated was 'through the eyes of glass and gypsy memory' he would find the Pit."

"Eyes of glass? Gypsy memory?" Tony shook his head in confusion, but noticed how Batman stiffened at the words. "What? What is it?"

"Richard. He needs Richard to find the Pit."


	22. 21: Runaway Bride

Note: Sorry about the length between update times. Our phone was messed up and more bad weather and I can't get online during either time. Just so you know, I am finished with this story and have started on the 3rd one, so at the end of this one, don't get mad at me! I am fixing everything in the third one. And this one will be shorter than the first story, but again, I will make up for it in the third one. The way it is going, it could end up to be 40 chapters by the time I am done. And thanks to everyone who reviewed. Especially to LadyDream3512. I really appreciate it! And to answer your question, LadyDream3512, they locked him up in a meat freezer, but he got out. And it was Ra's al Ghul who killed Harley and the Joker.

Chapter Twenty-One: Runaway Bride

"So, this pit has more powers than just making someone immortal?" Buffy asked, incredulous. "If this thing is a natural occurrence, than how can it have so much…abilities or powers or whatever?"

"Who knows," Giles said, rubbing the space between his eyes with thumb and forefinger. His glasses lay on top of the book he had been reading. "It could have absorbed powers from any number of sources that it has come in contact with over the years."

"Including the black magic that Ra's al Ghul himself has used to cause some terrible things throughout his existence," Willow added, still flipping pages of the book she had. There were many stacked on the table between them.

Buffy began to say more when J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke up, startling them all. It was hard to get used to.

"Mrs. Wayne. Richard is no longer in the manor."

"What?" Buffy jumped to her feet and began running at full Slayer speed up the stairs and to the boy's room. The light was on, bed covers thrown back, but no Richard. "Where? How?"

"He was here one minute and then the other he was gone."

"Gone? Which door did he go out of?"

"None, Mrs. Wayne. He is just gone." Though the A.I.'s voice was flat and emotionless, it still seemed to give the impression of confusion. "Not any of the windows or doors in the manor was opened. Technically, he has not left the house, but he is no longer here."

"Buffy!" Willow exclaimed. She took one step into the room and then backed out, running into Giles who was coming up behind her. "Do you not feel that? He was here. He was in this room."

"Who?" Buffy snapped. Her fists were curled at her sides. She was confused, not understanding what was going on or what had happened to Richard.

"The Immortal, Buffy. Ra's al Ghul was here."

"He took Richard." Buffy was going into full panic mode now. How could this happen? Marti? She had to check on Marti. Shoving her way out of the room, and none too gently, to get to her daughter's room next door. She barged in, almost sending the door flying in her panic, and ran to the crib only to find her daughter sleeping soundly. Sighing in relief, she tiptoed out of the room, and back to Richard's.

"Richard's sight," Giles stated softly. Both Willow and Buffy turned to him. "He needs Richard's sight to find the Pit."

"Willow, can you use a spell to find Richard?"

"Yes, I think so – "

"Then do it. If you find him, call me."

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"To follow my senses. Keep an eye on Marti."

Several moments after Buffy made a quick dash out of the manor, the doorbell rang. Alfred, who Willow had filled in on what had happened which had upset him greatly, answered the door.

"What's goin' on?" Faith asked, dropping her bag and embracing the butler. Alfred laughed, in spite of his worry over Richard, and hugged her back.

"Welcome home," he said and it was music to her ears. She was home, wasn't she?

"What about me?" Xander asked and Alfred hugged him as Willow and Giles greeted Faith.

It was who stepped into the doorway next that gave them all pause.

"Oh! Alfred, this is Spike. He has to be invited in," Faith explained.

"He's a vampire," Alfred stated, preparing to slam the door in his face.

"A vampire with a soul," Spike cried, throwing his hands up to ward off the door from hitting him in the face.

"A soul?"

"Yes, a soul. Fought for it and everything. Got it fair and square," he sniffed.

Alfred looked to Giles who nodded. Sighing, Alfred stepped out of the way. "You may enter."

"Thank you, Al," Spike stated, sauntering in, and immediately disappearing into the house.

"Don't break or steal anything," Xander yelled after him. There is no need to quote Spike's response here.

"I've got something to tell Buffy. Where is she?" Faith looked from Willow to Giles and then Alfred. Something was wrong.

"That might be difficult," Willow stated, deflated. "She just left."

Buffy had no idea why she had left the manor, especially without a plan of action or any knowledge of where she had to go. She just knew she had to get out and do something.

She was torn between two duties, and while what Tony had told her earlier in the cave made perfect sense to her, Richard had been taken during her watch. Bruce would understand, right? He would understand why she had had to leave: she had to find the boy.

All of Stark's glorious technology and the Immortal's magic had undermined it. What else was the man capable of? He could have attacked them at any moment, no matter how safe they had thought they were.

This made her very angry. And he had taken Richard, a boy who was like a son to her, whom she loved like she had given birth to him herself. That totally pissed her off.

Bruce would understand, because he would have done the same thing.

As she walked, aimlessly really, waiting for Willow to call, she could not shake the feeling that came rushing at her. That feeling she had felt earlier in the cave, that she was not going to see her husband again. It was almost enough to make her turn and run back home, but Richard needed her. She had to get to him.

Her phone rang and she took it out of her pocket and put it to her ear quickly. "Will? Where – "

"No, not Will." The Immortal.

"Where's Richard?" Buffy asked, stopping in her tracks and looking around her. She had jumped down to the road leading from the cave, and the freeway was in sight.

"He's here with me. He is unharmed, I assure you." The man's voice was smooth.

"What do you want?"

"For him to find the Lazarus Pit for me. Once that is done, I will let him go."

"You know I can't let you reach it," Buffy said, willing her senses to tell her something - anything - that would help her, but they didn't work that way.

"You won't be able to stop me, I am afraid. But just in case you try, I have a surprise for you and this city." Then the line went dead.

Richard could not stop himself. It was as if his feet were moving of their own accord, against his will. The Lazarus Pit was calling to him. The acidic green clouded his vision, the life of the pit whispered in his brain. It was powerful and it was controlling him.

Ra's al Ghul had his hand on Richard's shoulder, gentle but firm, following him through the deep, dark sewers under Gotham City. They were getting closer, Richard could feel that, and the closer they got, the more afraid he became.

Behind them came fifteen men dressed in black and carrying katanas and various other weapons from feudal Japan, members of the League of Shadows. These men Richard feared almost as much as he did Ra's al Ghul. Behind them came several demons pulling behind them a large cylindrical tube covered in a sheet. Richard had only gotten a glance at it before it had been covered with the sheet, but he had seen the woman sealed away inside. Her name was Nora, a gentle and kind soul. She was sleeping. He had no idea what al Ghul planned to do with her and what she had to do with the Pit.

And then they were there.

The Lazarus Pit was no larger than a small pool, the water sickly green, and lighting up the cavern with its glow. Richard suddenly felt sick. The hand on his shoulder pushed him forward and the League of Shadows followed them inside and lined up along one side of the Pit. The demons came next, the tube Nora was in behind them.

"What're you going to do with her?" Richard asked.

Ra's al Ghul smiled gently at him, and if he didn't know any better, Richard would have almost believed the man was not an evil man set upon destroying Gotham and the people that Richard loved. "I am going to heal her."

"How?"

"Sshhh. In time. You will see." He nodded to his guards, who drew their weapons. "Go stand guard. Make sure we are not disturbed." All of them disappeared down the tunnel. "Hurry. Get her into the Pit," he then ordered the demons.

One demon, what kind Richard did not know, removed the sheet and opened the tube like object. Cold air escaped, but when Nora was lifted out, her body was limp, not frozen solid. The demon sat her down into the green liquid, careful not to let it touch him, and stepped back. His care of her had been mild, almost tender, and unpredictably so, but his fear of letting the water touch him was startling.

The water in the Pit began to bubble and churn. Richard, now free of the hand that had been gripping his shoulder, began to back away from the Pit as Ra's al Ghul stepped forward.

Richard could see it. See what was going to come out of that Pit. Nora had gone in, but it was not going to be Nora that came back out again. The dark powers that were imbued inside of the pool were being absorbed by Nora, making her something else, something more. Something evil.

She rose from the pool, still laying prone, her eyes closed. Once she was hovering five feet over the surface, her body suddenly tilted upright and her eyes opened. For just a split second, Nora was there, frightened and confused, but she was gone, erased, in a flash, replaced by something else. Something that had been waiting in the pool.

"I am Lazara," she proclaimed, her voice booming in the cavern. "And I call upon the dead to arise and do my bidding. Arise! And destroy this city!"


	23. 22: Statistics are on the Rise

Note: Sorry for the long wait. Again. I kinda lost my desire to write for a little while. Blame it on the video game I am playing.

Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Two: Statistics are on the Rise

Buffy's senses were going on overload. One second, all she could detect was a few demons, somewhere near her but underground, and when the wave of green light hit, rolling through the city like a neon tidal wave, it was like an explosion went off. There were those that needed slaying all around her, so suddenly, that she had to sit down and get her head on straight.

It only took a few seconds and then she was up and running as fast as she could to get to the nearest _blip_ on her Slayer radar. She was not surprised that it was a graveyard.

She was surprised that all the residents seemed to be up and moving about.

Her phone rang and she answered it. "Willow, is that you?"

"No, it's Faith. I am at the manor."

"Do me a favor and go look outside, in the back, and tell me that the graves there are not disturbed."

"Give me a sec," Faith answered, and Buffy could hear her running through the manor. Finally she stopped, and Buffy held her breath. "No. Everything is fine. What's the deal?"

Buffy let the breath she had been holding out in relief and then explained the situation to Faith.

"This is the Insurrection the old gypsy woman told me about before I came to Gotham. This is what brought me here," Buffy said as she watched the undead begin to file out of the graveyard in an orderly fashion.

"Yeah, I think I met her. That is why I came here to warn you, but I guess I'm a little late."

"Ra's al Ghul is behind this. Somehow, he and that Pit is making this happen." Buffy began to follow the zombies. At least they were not attacking anyone. Yet.

"Yeah, the gypsy woman said that 'she would enter the pool in death but rise with the power to control the undead', or something like that."

"She?" Buffy wondered aloud. More zombies were joining the group she was following, coming from every direction. "Well, I believe it is safe to say that 'she' whoever she is has risen and is controlling the undead."

"Where are you? Spike and I are coming to help."

"Spike is with you?" This just kept getting better and better.

Green light from up ahead suddenly rolled out and over them, causing the holographic HUD display in Tony's helmet to go on the fritz. The same must have happened to the display in Batman's cowl because for a moment he stumbled before regaining his composure.

"What was that?" He asked Tony who just shrugged.

"Sir." J.A.R.V.I.S.' voice was full of static but clear enough. "Miss Lahane has asked me to inform you that the dead are rising all over the city."

"Miss who?" Tony asked. "And what is rising all over the city?"

"Faith," Batman answered, getting the same message. "And the dead are rising all over the city."

"That is what I thought I had heard, but…" he trailed off. "I can honestly say that is something I have never fought before."

"Hey, guys, can you hear me?" Willow. "Listen; there is a lot of stuff going on. Apparently the Lazarus Pit has the ability to allow one person to absorb it's true power – the power of the living dead. It has to be a woman."

Batman glanced up at Tony and then they both turned to Freeze. He could not hear what Willow was saying, and they were both glad for it. Ra's al Ghul had promised he was going to heal Freeze's wife, but instead he had obviously planned to use her all along to destroy Gotham.

"Richard is also gone. Apparently Ra's al Ghul just teleported into the manor or something and took him. And…" she hesitated. "Buffy went after him."

Batman turned to Freeze. "Do you have any idea where he was taking your wife?"

"He said it was deep in the tunnels below the city. Beyond that, I know nothing." Freeze stood still for a moment, and then he nodded, as if coming to an agreement with himself. "But I can track the apparatus that I placed Nora in."

"Then do it." He was not sure when the right time would be to tell Mr. Freeze his wife's fate, but he decided to wait until they knew where the Pit was. It was obvious al Ghul's plan was already in effect since the dead were rising. They had to get there and stop her and al Ghul before this went farther.

"Either scenario is not good," Tony said, communicating through the HUD. "One way or another, Gotham's streets are going to be flooded with the undead, moving or not."

That thought had crossed Bruce's mind also: if they destroyed the Pit and Nora, the dead would no longer be one problem, as in attacking the citizens, but they would not return on their own to their graves.

"We don't have a choice," he answered back and Tony nodded his agreement. "Take us to them, Freeze."

"Very well," he stated. "This way."

Buffy didn't have time to wait for Faith and Spike. She had to get to whoever was controlling the zombies. It was a definite that once the horde gathered wherever it was they were supposed to gather that they would stop being deaf, dumb and blind and turn into vicious, scratchy, and bitey. Can anyone say _brains?_ And arms and legs and feet and…

She knew that all she had to do was follow the zombies, but they were headed in one direction, just barely moving around obstacles to get there, so all she had to do was go in the general direction they were and she should find whoever or whatever she was looking for.

Zipping and zagging around zombies was much easier than it should have been, but they paid her no mind as she moved among them. She had a feeling she was going to wish she had brought her axe with her. Zombies were easy to fight, much easier to fight than the intelligent undead, but there were so many of them, and if she wasn't able to stop what was going on, when they were ordered to attack en masse, she was going to be in a world of trouble.

As she traversed undead avenue, a street that stretched through most of Gotham, she once again started to doubt her being out here. Yes, this was her job as Slayer. Tony had said that the fight with Ra's al Ghul was not her fight, that it was Bruce's, but the Immortal had made it personal when he took Richard, and now that there were undead milling around it was definitely her fight, but she had a lot more to think about now. What if something happened during the fight? What if she got hit the wrong way in the right place? Marti was safe and sound at home, but the child she carried was in danger just by her being out here. How much was she willing to risk doing her duty? Hadn't she already sacrificed enough?

She crossed a bridge into Midtown and staying just ahead of the undead so she could keep track of where they were headed. After several more blocks, it became apparent where they were headed: South City Park.

She skirted around the north end of the park, taking a serpentine line through the eastern side, and finally finding what she was searching for.

There she was - whoever she was. A blonde woman with long blonde hair wearing a white dress that reached her mid calves. Her feet were bare and she was floating up above the ground a good ten feet. And she was not alone.

Below her, a few feet behind where she was floating, were fifteen armed men dressed in black, like ninjas. From what Bruce had told her, they were League of Shadow warriors.

There was no sign of Richard of Ra's al Ghul.

The dead were filing into the park, flocking to her. Her eyes were glowing green, the sickly green likely akin to the Pit. Buffy felt pity for who the woman had once been, and would never be again. The Pit had destroyed her and left behind something horrible in her skin.

She had to find the Lazarus Pit and destroy it. It was a much better option than taking on this woman, fifteen ninjas, and countless zombies.

"But how, Buffy?" she asked herself.

Richard studied Ra's al Ghul and he noticed something.

He was weakening and he looked older, even more so than he had when he had appeared in Richard's room and magicked him from the manor.

But for some reason he was not making any move to use the Lazarus Pit.

Maybe it had to recharge. It had obviously used a lot of its innate power to turn poor Nora Fries into Lazara. It was possible it had to recharge, so to speak, in order to grant Ra's al Ghul extended life. Again.

Richard wondered how many times he Ra's al Ghul had used the pool.

He also realized how much the man must hate Gotham, and was so bent on destroying it, to risk the power of the pool to create Lazara.

The demons that had carried Nora in were now standing guard at the only exit. Well, not the only exit. There was another located fifteen feet above Richard's head, nearly directly over the Pit. As he stood against the wall, staying as inconspicuous as he could, his eyes traced the walls, looking for some way that he could reach the opening. He had been keeping up with the training he had received in the circus – his adoptive parents made sure of that – so if he could find a few good hand and foot holds, he could be up and out in on time.

He was certainly more agile than the demons, which seemed kinda stupid, and getting older Immortal. It seemed that every time he looked at him, Ra's al Ghul was getting older each time.

Being as quiet as he could, which was very, Richard stepped sideways along the wall, having spotted a promising step in his goal of up. His eyes trailed upward and found another and another, the last reachable by a pretty good stretch, but one he was sure he could make it to. If he fell, he would fall into the pit, and he did not want to know what it could do to him if he did, but he had to risk it.

The demons were conversing among themselves in some strange language and the Immortal was staring into the Pit as if it were speaking to him or as if he could see something inside of it that no one else could. Maybe he could, but Richard didn't care as long as it kept his attention.

Taking a deep breath, stealing himself, Richard jumped on top of a fallen rock and used it to jump for the hand hold. His hand had no longer touched the small outcrop before he propelled up, his hand catching the next hand hold. Behind him he could hear commotion, but he was not about to turn around and look.

"Stop him before he escapes!" Ra's al Ghul ordered. His voice sounded weary and strained.

Richard jumped again, feeling something barely touch his ankle as he did so; sure it was one of the demons making a jump for him. There was a splash and then screaming, and what sounded like boiling. Still not caring to look, he continued his journey upward, not pausing as he propelled himself backwards and up off the wall, catching the lip of the hole in the ceiling and flipping up and through it, landing on his feet inside another tunnel. The demon that had fallen into the Pit screamed again and then was silent.

Unsure of where to do, just wanting to get away, Richard began to run as fast as he could down the tunnel.


	24. 23: Hordes of Annoyance

I own nothing. No profits being made. Everything that belongs to someone else is the property of that someone else.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Hordes of Annoyance

"So, what's the plan?" Tony's voice was slightly distorted in Batman's ears. "I mean, you know this guy is going to go crazy when he realizes what has happened to his wife. So, what are we going to do?"

Tony really was a genius. There were times when Bruce had doubted it. And, of course, he had a point.

"I don't know." Unlike his cohort, Batman couldn't speak freely without being over heard by their 'guide', so he had to keep his voice down, even more so than normal. "We are just going to have to play it by ear."

"Play it by–" Tony began, and then cut himself off. "Off with their heads."

That caused Batman to pause. Freeze was not too far ahead of them, sure of where he was going apparently. Walking was not the favored form of transportation, especially when they need to hurry, but while Iron Man could fly, Mr. Freeze could not, and Batman doubted he would have fit in the passenger seat of the Tumbler, so walking it was.

"What?" he asked.

"That is the best way to kill a zombie, isn't it? Disconnect the brain from the spinal cord? That's what they say in all the horror movies. I also read it in a book about surviving the zombie apocalypse."

Bruce almost laughed, but kept himself in check. He was glad there was no one else out on the streets. Gotham, for all purposes, appeared as if it were abandoned, but it wasn't and it was good to know that Gothomites had sense enough to stay inside.

They were walking down the middle of the street. There wasn't any reason for stealth, not that it would have been attainable. Mr. Freeze's suit made more noise than Iron Man's with each movement, but Tony's steps were loud and heavy. Batman was surprised neither of them was cracking the street with every step they made. And parts of the Iron Man armor kept moving, fluttering in a way, every so often. At first, it had been amusing.

"Yes, that will work. Of course, so will blowing them up."

"It seems strange. The dead walking. They used to live in this city, walk these streets, and now they are again, only they aren't alive," Tony stated. Leave it to him to bring that fact to light. "You never did tell me what you did with the gun I gave you." And just like Tony to bring something up out of the blue like that.

"I threw it in the river," Batman answered, with a shrug. "Afraid it would have traced back to you?"

"Not really. It was registered to my father, so it was no big deal. Just didn't want it coming back to haunt me."

They walked in silence (speech wise, at least) for a few more moments, keeping Freeze in sight and staying alert, even though nothing was showing up as of yet on their HUB sensors.

"I knew Lucius would call you when I asked him," Bruce admitted. "He knew your father so I was hoping he would."

"Really?" Tony chuckled. "I must admit I was surprised when he did and told me you needed help. You never were very good at admitting that. Too damn stubborn."

"That means so much coming from you. Being stubborn is another thing we have in common."

"Another thing? You mean there's something else we've got in common."

"Besides the obvious. Billionaires. Philanthropists. Industry moguls."

"Too rich for our own good. Too smart for our own good. Living double lives that are bound to get us killed or crippled some day."

"Beat to hell. Falling apart. Too stupid to stop."

"Are we missing anything?" Tony asked, his armor fluttering again.

"I'm sure we are, but the point is I'm glad you're here," Bruce admitted and Tony knew it wasn't easy for him.

"So am I. It's going to be nice to enjoy a winter that's actually winter." Tony stopped suddenly, catching Batman's arm, and pointed. Up ahead, Freeze had also stopped.

They were at an intersection, the last one before a bridge heading into midtown from South Gotham. Up ahead, the bridge was flooded with hundreds of bodies, shambling along, some slower than others. The stench was horrendous, the smell of musty, old decay. The various states of the bodies were none too pleasant either.

"So that it what a zombie horde looks like," Tony commented as they stood and watched the undead shuffle along.

"They don't seem to be in a hurry," Batman said. "But then again, it might be difficult to walk given the state most of them are in."

They stepped out on the street, the zombies paying them no mind. Several of the undead bumped into them, but stumbled along. Iron Man actually laughed, rather sardonically, when exposed, yellow bones clanged against his armor.

"I laugh because I don't know what else to do," he stated, shaking his head. "I think I should be screaming."

"How are we going to get across the bridge?" Freeze asked. His freeze ray was held steady in the direction they needed to go.

"Do we attack them even though they have no desire to attack us?" Iron Man also had his weapons ready, but was reluctant to use them. "Will they attack if we do?"

"I don't think so," Batman answered. He was studying each of the zombies that went by him. Some were no more than skeletons with bits of cloth on them, while some still had flesh on their bones in various degrees. Some were missing body parts: arms, jaws, and such. "I think they are being controlled. She is calling them to wherever she is. I don't think they will attack until she tells them to."

"There are so many. When she does order them to attack the city, no one is going to be safe." Tony was rethinking his reluctance to fire upon the zombies. So was Batman.

"Take out as many as we can now, and get across the bridge," Bruce said.

"She?" Mr. Freeze said, the arm that held his freeze ray dropping suddenly. "This is Nora's doing? This is what he did to her? He lied to me." The last sentence was bellowed at the top of his lungs. Batman glanced at Tony who turned his palm laser onto the anguished Freeze. Just in case.

With a speed that was astounding considering, he began running across the bridge, flinging zombies out of his way. Mindless, they went flying, crashing into other zombies and causing a tidal wave of decaying bodies to crash in heaps and piles along the concrete surface of the bridge. Then, for no reason save he was tired of fighting his way through the zombies, Freeze went to the side of the bridge and jumped off into the water below.

"Want me to go after him?" Tony asked.

"No. He can walk on the river floor. He'll be fine. Besides, I need your help getting across the bridge."

"Well, I don't think it is a good idea to blast my way through. If it wasn't a bridge, I would do it, but seeing as how I might cause structural damage…" He let the rest of the sentence hang in the air between them.

Batman sighed. He knew where this was going, but he was going to ask anyway. "And how are we going to get across."

"I am going to fly," Tony stated. "And you are going with me."

Bruce nodded, actually smiling a little. "This is going to be the first chance I have had to test your modifications."

"It will work the same as it did before, except the electrical current will come from the HUB, not your gloves," Tony stated. "And before you ask, I am sure it will work. Absolutely positive."

"Just promise me that on the off chance that it doesn't…"

"I won't let you smash into anything. Cross my heart, sunshine."

Batman pulled the grapple gun from his belt and aimed for the highest point of the bridge he could reach. Just before he pulled the trigger, however, he paused. "Why do you call me that? I am the Dark Knight. Why 'sunshine'?"

"Because you are a ray of it," Tony said, the sarcasm evident. The thrusters on his armor fired up and he ascended into the night sky, coming to a stop near the area where Batman was aiming for, hovering in place.

Once atop the bridge, and flying off of it, Batman found it wasn't that difficult to adjust to the modifications. Instead of using his hands and arms, all he had to do was shift his body to alter his flight path. Iron Man stayed close to him, sometimes 10 feet below or to his side. Below them, the streets were flooded with undead, and Bruce realized that not all of them had come from Gotham's cemeteries. There could not be this many people buried in the Gotham city limits. When he mentioned this to Tony, he flew off, and came back a few moments later.

"You're right. They are coming into the city from the north and the east."

For a brief moment of dread, Bruce imagined his family's cemetery behind Wayne Manor. Had his parents, and other relatives, risen from their graves, summoned by her call?

They were nearing the South City Park, these thoughts still in Batman's head, when a ball of fire rose out of the center of the park. It came so fast, that the time to dodge it was nonexistent, but he threw his body to the side anyway and waited to feel the pain of the fire.

Gold and red flashed in front of him, taking the brunt of the blast. The impact sent Tony spiraling through the air on a downward slope, crashing into the wall of the nearest building before free falling toward the street below.

Though Iron Man had taken the heaviest of the attack, Batman still felt the force of it. The memory cloth did not catch on fire, just as Tony had promised, but the wave of heat sent him reeling in the sky. Closing his eyes against the heat, he ordered the HUD to disengage the memory cloth shape, and pulled his grapple gun free, firing it blindly, hoping it caught on something. It did, much to his relief, and he opened his eyes, expecting to find a wall. There was one but it was getting farther away, not closer. Looking up, he discovered why.

"I told you I wasn't going to let you crash into anything," Iron Man said as they flew away from the park before another fire ball could be launched their way. His armor was slightly scorched, but there was no other damage apparent. The end of the grapple gun line was attached firmly to Iron Man's right wrist.

"I appreciate that," Batman stated, trying to keep his back to the buffet of air that assaulted him but to no avail. He was practically spinning on the line, but he was not about to complain. "And thanks for the lift."

"No problem," Tony responded, swerving around a building and around a corner much too fast in Bruce's opinion, but then, again, not complaining. Then he flew up, high over the building, allowing Batman to drop down to the roof. "This concludes the Gotham City Iron Man air tour, sponsored and piloted by me. No refunds for unhappy costumers. If you have any complaints," he said as he landed next to his friend. "Keep 'em to yourself."

Admiring Tony's ability at levity in the face of undead and fireballs, Batman walked to the edge of the roof and looked out over the park. It was definitely where the zombies were being summoned to.

"This is ground zero," he said. Looking at the massive number of undead flooding into the park, he had no idea what they could do to stop the onslaught that was coming.

"So, what do we do now?" Tony asked, marching over to stand next to him.

"I don't know."

"Well, there is something else we have in common, because I don't a clue either."


	25. 24: Never Again

Notes: HEHEHE! HAHAHA! Sorry!

I am uploading this chapter and the epilogue together because the epilogue is short. This is officially the last of this story, but do not fear: I am well into the third and final story in this series. I hope everyone who has read it enjoyed it and I hope you will enjoy the 3rd part as well. Reviews are welcome, but do not get upset with me. I will right all wrongs in the next story. It might take me a month to load the first chapters up, but it will be soon. Thank you all!

Chapter Twenty-Four: Never Again

She did not know how she knew, but Buffy knew she was heading in the right direction. She could sense something unfamiliar and three demons down this tunnel. She took a few steps in and then ran forward. Richard was down here.

The green glow of the Pit made her let out the breath she had been holding. She was most definitely in the right place.

What she saw when she entered the chamber was confusing at first. There was the creepy, icky Pit, a much older Ra's al Ghul standing near it, and three demons staring up at a hole in the ceiling, none too happy.

Richard was nowhere to be seen.

He must have escaped through the hole in the ceiling. Thank Heaven for that.

Hoping he was safely away, she concentrated on what she could do to bury the pit. Slayer strength was great and…well, strong, but she wasn't sure how to go about this. If only she had Iron Man's armament or the firepower of the Tumbler.

_Your power is great!_

The words come into her head with the force of a hurricane.

_The power of a champion…_

She had heard that before, years ago. A misshapen tower, her sister – the key – bleeding, a portal opened, a hell-god bent on creating hell on earth.

The power of a champion. The blood of a champion.

Buffy knew what she had to do.

Faith was glad she had found Buffy's Byzantine axe, her pride, and joy. He did slice through anything, especially zombies.

She and Spike were taking them out left and right. She felt a little remorse since the zombies were not fighting back. Spike was not impaired by such sentiments.

They had been fighting for what seemed like hours, but had only been more like one hour, and they were pretending they were making a dent. There were so many of them. They were coming from outside of Gotham. Just how far was this woman's reach?

Willow had sent them in the general direction that they had needed to go, but she had informed them that she was only able to locate the source of the zombie uprising. She wasn't sure if it was the Lazarus Pit or the woman herself. She could not locate Buffy, Richard, or Ra's al Ghul.

Spike was in full vamp mode, fangs, and all, bellowing in glee as he tore through zombie after zombie. Faith slashed and slashed, but her arms were starting to feel a little heavy with exhaustion. She still had a while to go, but the vamp would outlast her and they had gotten nowhere so far.

"Spike!" Faith hacked another zombie to the ground. "We need to move. We have to get to the location Willow gave us."

Spike wasn't in a killing frenzy like Faith had thought he saw. He calmed down almost immediately, nodding to her. "You're right. Fighting when they don't fight back isn't as much fun as it was at first."

Knocking the zombies out of their way as they ran, Faith and Spike made their way farther into the city, heading south. Faith had patrolled the city enough to know where she was going, and Spike followed her without question.

Time was running out.

Willow read the paragraph again and then read it again.

She couldn't believe what she was reading.

"Giles!" She screamed, picking up the book and running through the manor to where Giles and Alfred were sitting. Alfred, having nothing else to do, had decided to help them research. He had been a Watcher, a long time ago, but he had been one. And all help was appreciated.

Both men were looking up as she entered the kitchen, noticing her panicky appearance.

"Willow, what is it?" Giles asked, taking his glasses off and laying them on the book he was reading.

"This," she said, out of breath, setting the book down with a loud _thump_. "According to this, there is another way to close the Lazarus Pit?"

"How?" Alfred asked, hopeful.

"It says that Lazarus Pits can become corrupted by those who use it and that corruption takes over." Willow was talking a mile a minute, but she couldn't help it. "It can be purified by the blood of-" She had to stop and catch her breath. Her heart was pumping in fear and she felt as if she was going to faint. The hopeful look on Alfred's face was dissolving quickly. "The blood of a champion."

"Oh no!" Giles said, shaking his head, rising from his chair. "Buffy."

_Why?_

That was the only question on Buffy's mind as she stared at the Pit from where she stood.

Why her? How could this be asked of her again?

How could she be asked to not only sacrifice herself, but that of her unborn child? How could see be asked to leave the man she loved, her friends, her daughter behind?

But she had no choice.

If she thought about it any longer, it would be too late.

Slamming her arm into the wall, running it along the wall where sharp rock protruded from neglect, Buffy took a deep breath against the pain, physical, mental, and emotional. And let the blood flow.

Richard stopped dead in his tracks. There in the dark of the tunnel, desperate for a way out, something called to him. At first he was not sure what it was. It was not pulling him back, telling him to turn around and return to the Pit, but he could make out what it was telling him. Concentrating, closing his eyes tight, and blocking out everything else, he focused.

And his heart broke.

"No, _Ruh Anna_," he whispered there in the dark. Falling to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks, he wept for the woman who had been like a mother to him since his own had been taken from him.

And now she was being taken from him.

Iron Man fired at Lazara, but even his heavy duty fire power was deflected like it was nothing more than a plastic pellet.

This was not going good. Not at all.

They were out of options.

Batman was not fairing any better. The League of Shadows was many and attacked without mercy. If it had not been for the improvements Tony had made to his armor, he imagined he would be severally wounded otherwise.

They had decided that, as before, Tony would go in high and he would go in low. He had fought the League of Shadows before, had been trained by them. He knew how they worked, how they moved, how they fought. Iron Man had the firepower. It had made sense.

But deep down both knew that the plan might not work. Would more than likely not work. But they had no other choice.

And it wasn't working.

Lazara was powerful and she hadn't even used the extent of her powers yet. The zombies were still coming to her, those that were already there surrounding her, awaiting her orders. All she had to do was think it and they would tear this city apart.

But she was having so much fun.

Though the metal man was getting annoying. He was dodging her fire blasts and firing back. He could not harm her, his weapons were useless, but he was relentless and she was growing tired of it.

She summoned a great force and prepared to fling it forward, stopping the metal man once and for all, but she paused.

Something was wrong.

Ra's al Ghul had just enough time to turn around before the Slayer slammed into him. It always amazed him how someone so small could have such power, but that was the way of the Slayer.

He was falling.

And she was falling with him.

And she was bleeding.

"NO!" He screamed. Foolish girl. Did she not know what she was doing? Did she not know what was going to happen when her blood, the blood of a champion, made contact with the Lazarus Pit?

They both hit the water, and everything went black.

Faith slowed to a stop, her eyes wide in disbelief.

The zombies were falling to the ground.

"Bloody hell!" Spike swore. "What is happening?"

She didn't know.

With one last scream, Lazara collapsed, falling to the ground just as the zombie army she had summoned was.

Tony stared in shock. Was it really over? Taking only a moment to absorb what was going on below him, he fired his grenades, hitting the remaining six League of Shadows ninjas, or whatever they were.

"It's over?" A question as Tony landed next to the Bat. The zombies were immobile, lying all over. This was going to be a hell of a mess to clean up.

Bruce suddenly seemed to jerk and fell to his knees. At first, Tony thought that it was due to an injury, but as he knelt to help his friend, Batman looked up at him, and there were tears in his eyes.

Bruce whispered one word:

"_Buffy…"_


	26. Epilogue: Where

Epilogue: Where Does My Heart Beat?

Miraculously, as the power of the Pit waned and disappeared only hours after being released, the zombies disappeared also.

No, they did not disappear. It was as if the Lazarus Pit's power had reversed, and in the morning, there were no signs of the dead in the streets. Nor any signs of them having risen.

They were just gone. Returned to their resting places as if nothing had happened.

Confusion and then denial. As usual, this was the pattern of the people of Gotham. To them it had never happened, and that was the way it would remain, except to those who had actually lived it.

The area where the Lazarus Pit had been was excavated. Iron Man did most of the heavy lifting. The Pit was gone, also as if it too had never existed. Ra's al Ghul's body had never been found.

Neither had Buffy's.

Bruce had found Richard where he had collapsed in the tunnel above the Pit. For two days he would not speak. Just sat staring out the window, hands clinched into fists, silent tears falling down his cheeks. Tears Bruce could not cry. Would not allow himself to for fear he would shatter with them.

Mr. Freeze had arrived after Iron Man and Batman had gone, and taken his wife's lifeless body away. There was still hope for her even though he himself had none.

Three days after the zombies had risen and then fallen, Bruce, Richard, Tony, Faith, Willow, Giles, Xander, and Alfred gathered in the small fenced in area behind Wayne Manor. Marti, asleep, was held by her father, she herself oblivious to what was happening. Spike was under the tree nearby, covered in a thick blanket. Dawn, after being called by Willow, had come from Rome. It was a shame she had to meet her brother-in-law and niece and nephew for the first time at her sister's funeral.

Before them lay a fresh mound of dirt which covered an empty casket.

And a granite marker that read:

_Buffy Anne Summers-Wayne_

_Wife. Mother. Slayer._

_Who sacrificed so much,_

_For this thankless world._

It began to rain.

Somewhere. Some time. Her eyes opened.

And she remembered nothing.


End file.
